Predator: Return to Earth
by Raptor-Chick
Summary: The sequel to Birth of a Hunter. Matt returns to Earth for Celia's 18th birthday and discovers how much they have changed. He also discovers how hard it is to not solve problems Yautja style. Rated for language and violence. FINISHED!
1. Default Chapter

_Many thanks to everyone that supported my last story. This one is set a couple years in the future. Not a long chapter, but there will be longer ones. This will probably not be updated as often as Birth of a Hunter because I don't have many chapters written yet. Please give me lots of reviews to spark my imagination!_

_H'chak- Mercy._

_Kainde Amedha Chiva- The Hard Meat /Trial, the blooding hunt._

_Lou-dte Kalei- Child Bearer, derogatory slang term for any females._

_Kainde Amedha- Hard Meat, Xenomorph._

_Nain'de- A hunt._

_Guan-Thwei- Night Blood._

_Thwei-Tjau'ke- Blood Stone._

Chapter 1

Matt gasped as he was struck hard across the shoulders. Fighting the pain, he whirled and swung out his staff. His opponent jumped nimbly out of the way and laughed. He growled and spat out a mouthful of blood from a previous blow. Matt darted the butt forward, through his opponent's defenses and into his stomach. His eyes popped open as all the air in his lungs was knocked out. Matt whacked his doubled over opponent in the head, and then shoved him over. His opponent rolled and prepared to leap up, but Matt pressed the butt of his staff into his throat.

His opponent looked furious, but submitted, "H'chak, I yield to you." Matt glared and let the Yautja up.

"That will teach you to look down at me." growled Matt. The Yautja stormed out of the kehrite amid the mocking calls of the observers.

…..

Back in his own personal chambers, Matt stitched up his wounds. Since his Kainde Amedha Chiva, Matt was regularly challenged by other warriors. He won some, lost others, but was slowly gaining respect from the Yautja. His room was smaller than Guan-Thwei's, but already Matt was collecting trophies and interesting items he found on his hunts, improving the bare décor. With a final hiss of indrawn breath, Matt finished stitching and cut the thread with a flick of a knife. Sheathing it and ignoring his throbbing jaw, shoulder and forearm, he exited his rooms and headed to Guan-Thwei's.

Once he reached it, he discovered that the older Yautja was carefully going through his equipment, checking everything to ensure it was in top order.

"What are you doing?" asked Matt.

Guan-Thwei ignored him and instead said, "I saw your battle. It was very good. You are doing well in your lessons with Thwei-Tjau'ke." Matt frowned and repeated himself. "I have been chosen to go on a Lou-dte Kalei Kainde Amedha Nain'de!" Guan-Thwei exclaimed with a wide grin. "I leave in only a few days!"

"Oh. Uh, that's great!" said Matt, trying to put some enthusiasm into his voice.

Guan-Thwei blinked and asked, "What's the matter, M'aat-hew? You don't sound happy."

"It's Celia's 18th birthday in a few weeks and I want to be there for her."

"Why is it so important? What is so good about growing another year older?"

"It is a landmark for oomans. Once we reach our 18th year, we are considered adults. I missed her last couple of birthdays, so I want this one to be special." Guan-Thwei shook his head.

"You oomans have such odd ideas. How can one be considered a mature adult by simply gaining another year? No wonder that you have so many problems. The way to judge adulthood is with a test of maturity." He grinned and added, "You should convince other oomans to start your own Chivas!" Matt rolled his eyes.

"Are you sure that you can't take me to Earth?"

"Yes. Try asking another warrior for a ride in exchange for something. Or you could offer to be a guide for a hunt. I cannot, will not turn this honor down for your sister." Since Matt's visit after his Kainde Amedha Chiva and the conflict that arose, Guan-Thwei had become rather distant to Lee. It was understandable, but Matt wished that they would get along better. "Few Yautja ever get asked to go on one of these hunts."

"Alright, I'll go. Bye!"

…..

Matt spent an unsuccessful three days trying to persuade another warrior to give him a ride to Earth. Most warriors that had their own ships were Elders, warriors with high status or older warriors. Most of the Elders or older warriors rarely had a need to hunt and had no desire to go on one for something as unchallenging as oomans. They also didn't want anything he had to give. The younger warriors had far too much pride to do any favors for an ooman and certainly wouldn't be led on any hunt by one. In desperation, Matt again turned to Guan-Thwei.

…..

"I've asked every Yautja that owns a ship and no one will give me a ride!" Matt exclaimed frantically.

"Pass me that scattergun?" Matt grabbed the weapon off the table beside him and tossed it to Guan-Thwei. He slipped it into a holster on his belt, and then said, "Did you ask Thwei-Tjau'ke?"

Matt blinked and replied, "What? He has a ship?"

"Of course. He has had his longer than I have had mine. He used to take me hunting. Did you think that because he can't hunt, he can't own a ship?"

Matt stared at the ground and mumbled, "Something like that."

"Go ask him. I'm sure he will give you a ride." He put his mask on and nodded to Matt. "Goodbye."

"Good luck on your hunt." Matt replied. He followed Guan-Thwei out into the corridor, then the two split up.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sorry for the long delay, I just couldn't rouse the energy to type this. Now you all know the extent of my laziness! I have decided to start responding to every reviewer separately, as so many other favorite authors do. Please review if you luuurve meAnd want a speedy update! ;)!_

_Kitty Felone: I might do that in a later sequel, depending if I get a good idea, but right now, he's not quite ready for a mate. I mean, he is still trying to fit in, what would happen if he showed up with a human female when so many Yautja still hate him and/or have no respect for him?_

_Olafur: I e-mailed you your answer already._

_AzureF: Yeah, I know so many people who are adults by age only and shouldn't have any of those priveliges yet, or perhaps even never… I also know people who should be considered adults, yet aren't._

_Thwei-Tjau'ke: Bloodstone._

_Guan-Thwei: Night blood._

_Ch'hkt-a: Nervous energy, hyperactive._

_Ki'its-pa: Retractable spear._

_H'sai-de: Curved sword._

_Kehrite: Training arena._

_H'chak: Mercy._

Chapter 2

"So you think that you could give me a ride?" Matt inquired to Thwei-Tjau'ke.

"Mmm… What's in it for me?" replied the Yautja.

Matt flushed indignantly and said, "Thwei-Tjau'ke, I'm serious! Please? This is important to me." Thwei-Tjau'ke raised a brow and grinned, clearly enjoying being a pest.

"Yes, yes. Sure. When do you want to leave?"

"As soon as possible! Now!"

Thwei-Tjau'ke smirked, "There's no rush. Besides, I have to finish repairing this plasma caster for its incompetent owner before I leave."

"I don't want to miss Celia's birthday!" Thwei-Tjau'ke leaned back in his chair and winced, rubbing at a cramping muscle in his scarred side.

"My ship is extremely fast. Faster than Guan-Thwei's. We don't have to rush. Go train or something. You are full of ch'hkt-a." His grin widened. "You are making me itch."

Matt sighed and replied, "Alright. See you later." The crippled Yautja shook his head slightly as he watched the ooman leave and thought to himself, what odd ideas these creatures have. Then he picked up his minute tools and got back to working on the weapon.

…..

A few days later, the two warriors walked the halls that led to the ship ports. They finally stopped near the very end, where the larger ships were berthed. The door opened, revealing a large ship, larger than Guan-Thwei's. It was sleek and shone a silvery gray.

"Like it?" asked Thwei-Tjau'ke to Matt's surprised face. He let out a low whistle and nodded. "I thought so." A door opened in its underbelly at a touch of a button on the Yautja's wrist computer. The inside of the ship wasn't that different, only more spacious. The orange light was the same, same abstract carvings on the wall. Matt got the full tour of the ship. There was a larger kitchen, a small kehrite, and, an area for relaxation and meditation, a room which Guan-Thwei did not have. The floor was covered with Yautja sized pillows and low tables. Matt set his weapons and armor down in the armory, as did his friend. Then they went to the cockpit.

Matt settled himself comfortably in a wide leather beside Thwei-Tjau'ke's. He watched him press buttons and flick switches, then pulled on a lever. The ship hummed to life.

"I got the ship many of your years ago. I did a custom set of weapons for an older Yautja who was chosen to become an Arbitrator. I did everything he wanted, even made new systems for the mask and wrist computer so everything he wanted would fit. He didn't need the ship anymore, so he gave it to me as payment." Thwei-Tjau'ke said, answering Matt's unspoken question. Matt had learned that the Yautja usually explained themselves in time, if they felt it was necessary. "I also take small groups of Yautja on hunts." He ran a taloned hand over the stick. "She's an older ship, but runs beautifully. I've done some improvements." Thwei-Tjau'ke gripped the stick and pressed a few buttons. The ship leapt to life, gliding smoothly out of the hanger and into the inky darkness of space.

Once well clear of the clan ship, Thwei-Tjau'ke pressed a small button, and then tapped out the coordinates for Earth on a small keyboard. He set the autopilot, then stood.

"Want to fight before sleep, M'aat-hew?"

Matt shrugged and said, "I guess. Don't beat me too badly though. I don't want to be all bruised when I visit Lee. What weapon? Ki'its-pa, h'sai-de, staff or bare hands?"

"H'sai-de, I think. You are sloppy with it." Matt moaned and curled his lip in disgust as they started for the small kehrite.

…..

The harsh sound of swords clashing rang through the kehrite. Matt stumbled back from a powerful blow from Thwei-Tjau'ke, his arm numb. The Yautja did not move from his spot; he simply watched the human with his beady yellow eyes. Matt shook feeling back into his arm and began pacing a circle around Thwei-Tjau'ke, who never moved unless he had to, to keep Matt in his range of vision. Matt stalked like a restless animal. Abruptly, he reversed direction and darted towards the Yautja's weak side. Thwei-Tjau'ke was ready for this sneak attack and parried. Matt aimed a punch at the warrior's head as Thwei-Tjau'ke blocked another blow, but he was not fast enough and the Yautja caught his hand. Matt found himself flying through the air. He hit the ground, rolling to soften the landing, grunting as the air was knocked out of his lungs. He snarled and jumped up, before Thwei-Tjau'ke finished him. Matt dodged a strike from the flat of the Yautja's sword and lunged to retrieve his h'sai-de. Once it was in hand, Thwei-Tjau'ke quickly backed away and waited once again, as he always did. His strategy was to defend until his opponent wore themselves out, and then move in for the kill, so to speak. He clicked his mandibles and grinned tauntingly. Matt attacked, sword a blur. He struggled to overcome Thwei-Tjau'ke's well constructed defenses. Sweat poured down his face and stung his eyes. Matt swung the flat of his h'sai-de at Thwei-Tjau'ke's scarred side. It met with a solid thump. The crippled Yautja gasped, eyes wide, and folded up, clutching his cramping side. Matt grinned and prepared to end the battle when he had discovered that Thwei-Tjau'ke had brought his own h'sai-de up to Matt's throat.

He sighed loudly and said the customary words of the loser, "H'chak, I yield to you." Thwei-Tjau'ke withdrew the blade and sheathed it. He ignored Matt's helping hand and stood up on his own power, though the pain was obvious.

"You are getting very good, M'aat-hew. Best yet. Just remember that even a seemingly helpless opponent can be deadly. Do not hesitate or gloat before the final stroke. Make it quick and clean." Matt heard the Yautja groan and mutter under his breath, "What I wouldn't give for the baths…" as he rubbed at his scarred side.

"I hope I didn't hurt you too badly. It was kind of a low blow."

Thwei-Tjau'ke snorted, "Don't worry. I didn't watch that side enough; it was my fault I was struck. Perhaps I didn't expect you to take that strike. That is good. A true warrior is ruthless, does not care about his opponent." He blinked and said suddenly, "I'm tired. Let's go to the pods." Matt nodded and started towards the sleep pods.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for all the reviews! Sorry for the wait._

_Golden Wind: Yeah, she has gotten a bit better, but just a note, Matt has visited Lee once since his Kainde Amedha Chiva, but it was really really short. I'm sorry if my writing hasn't indicated that before._

_Scarface: The Yautja don't usually deliberately infest planets with Xenos, usually they get loose and severely damage the planet's ecosystem, making it only good for hunting them. The Yautja also don't really have hunting clans although a huge part of the Yautja population lives permanently on clan ships._

_Kitty Felone: I e-mailed you your answers!_

_Jaderen: You'll just have to see what will happen._

_Olgite the squidgal: Hmmmm, I should try that. Chocolate: Miracle cure!_

_Lord Azrael: I get the language from several sites on the internet._

_Thwei-Tjau'ke: Bloodstone._

_Awu'asa: Full suit of armor._

_Ki'cti-pa: Wristblades._

Chapter 3

The huge, sleek ship had landed safely on Earth and its occupants were now readying themselves for the long walk to the ooman city. Matt fastened his cloak around his shoulders and walked out of the room he had claimed for the duration of the voyage. Upon seeing Thwei-Tjau'ke, he swirled the dark gray cloak dramatically. The Yautja rolled his eyes, but grinned anyway. Thwei-Tjau'ke wore a black cloak with gold embroidery on the hem, sign of a high-ranking craftsman. Then they set out. Once outside, Matt again noticed how cold it was, cool enough that he turned on the thermal regulator in his netting suit. The two warriors started walking towards the distant ooman city.

…..

They reached it by nightfall. Frost sparkled on grassblades and metal, turning even the filthiest of allies into glittering grottos. A full moon lit the streets and stars speckled the clear sky. Matt paused in his walking and gazed up at the sky. Thwei-Tjau'ke turned when Matt failed to follow him.

"What is it?"

"Just the stars. They look so different on Earth than in space or on the Homeworld." Matt replied.

"I would not know. I cannot see them. The heat of those suns is lost before we can see them."

"Oh." said Matt. He glanced at a street sign. "We are almost there. What are you going to do?"

Thwei-Tjau'ke shrugged and said, "I will probably explore, improve my stalking skills, maybe even do some light hunting. What are you going to do after your visit?"

"I'm going to stay with Lee for the night. If I can't, I will walk back to the ship. I don't see why I won't be able to stay the night, though."

"Goodbye to you, then. I will see you in a few ooman days." Matt nodded. With that, they split up to go their respective ways.

…..

Matt silently opened the gate and crept through, shutting it behind him. He winced; the click of the latch seemed horribly loud. Matt switched off his cloaking device, removed his mask and stooped to pick up a handful of pebbles. Expertly, he lobbed them one by one at Celia's window. Soon a light flicked on and the window slid up. Lee poked her head out, looking sleepy and disheveled. She was immediately jolted into full consciousness upon seeing Matt.

He grinned and called up, "Happy birthday, Lee!" Celia glanced around and motioned frantically for him to climb up. Matt shook out his arms and flexed the joints, eyeing the low roof of the verandah. He broke into a run and jumped at the roof. He pulled himself up easily, and then climbed through Lee's window.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I came to visit you for your birthday, silly!" he replied.

"Not for only a short while? The whole thing? Party included?"

"Yes. I can stay for a few days."

"Sweet!" Celia exclaimed, forgetting herself for a moment.

"Shhh!" Matt reprimanded.

"Do you wanna come to the mall and movies with me tomorrow with me and my friends?"

"Alright. I gotta crash here tonight though because the ship is horribly far away." Matt said.

"OK." Celia looked him over. "You have some new scars."

"Yeah. All the Yautja I meet usually want to kick my ass. Sometimes I kick theirs though. They tend to underestimate me, what with all the rumors about oomans being weak and an easy fight. They don't fight as well as they should, even if they know about my fight record! They figure that they are all the best and will be able to grind me into a greasy stain on the arena floor. For such an advanced race, the Yautja can be pretty damn thick-headed." Celia giggled. "I also got a few of them on my hunts."

"Uh, Matt? Do you want some different clothes?"

"What? Oh, right. OK." he replied, glancing down at his armored form.

"I'll see if I can sneak some of my foster father's and brother's stuff. Wait right here." Celia tiptoed out of the room, rather loud compared to the silence that both he and the Yautja could move with. She returned several minutes later with a plain black t-shirt, jeans, runners, socks and a blue and gray windbreaker. "I got these from the clean laundry. No one will notice that they are gone." Celia explained.

"Thanks." Matt said softly. Then he dumped the largest plates of armor, cloak and the larger weapons before retreating into Lee's small bathroom.

The t-shirt was sleek against his lean, well-defined but not overlarge muscles. The jeans were loose and baggy, though not baggy enough to fall low. The socks felt uncomfortable to someone who had only worn sandals or nothing for years. Matt unfortunately could not keep wearing his wrist computer or ki'cti-pa, so he removed them after a quick transmission to Thwei-Tjau'ke. He felt bare and vulnerable without his weapons, so he hid a flat dagger under each arm and a long one in a sheath on his right ankle. Matt tugged nervously at his shirt and opened the door. Lee was gingerly examining his sword, but she put it down when she saw him, unsure if she should be touching it.

"You look great!" she exclaimed. "As one of my friends would say, you are a 'regulation hottie'." Matt gave a small smile and began carefully collecting up his awu'asa.

"Can I stash this under your bed?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'll put a few stuffed toys in front of your stuff to hide it just in case the sheet hanging down doesn't hide it well enough." Matt shoved it under and Lee selected a few large stuffies to place around the armor, effectively blocking it from view. Then she pulled a thick pink gingham blanket off the bed and spread it on the floor with a purple flower print pillow. Matt raised an eyebrow at the horribly little girlish bedding. "What? I like pink now!" At a further look from her brother, she said, "Alright, maybe my foster mother did go a little overboard…"

"What will they think if they open your door in the morning and see me?" inquired Matt.

"I'm usually left alone until noon before I get dragged out. I can lock the door if it will make you feel better though."

"Thanks. That's good that they won't bother you till then. I will be awake long before then. I've learned, well, I've had to learn to get sleep whenever I can."

"G'night." said Celia muzzily, already feeling sleepy again.

"Night." answered Matt as he rolled himself in the blanket. Although it was hideous, it was warm and comfortable.

_Remember to review!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thankies much for the reviews! Ah, what torture I have in store for Matt in these upcoming chapters…:) Do not take Matt's views on movies and actors as mine, because I love action movies. Oh, I also have put up a bio of M'yin-de on my profile. I will be putting up a new bio and deleting the old one everytime I update, so read when you can!_

_Golden Wind: The parents sleep like logs, after all, teenagers stay up most of the night and make much noise._

_Bastet1023: Lee's physical description is actually almost identical to my stepsister, who I used to be very close with. Sadly enough, Lee's change from a very cool tomboy to a shallow, slutty girl is the same as my stepsister._

_Olgite the squidgal: The pink gingham comforter is just a blown-up version of my baby blanket (I still have it and sleep with it!) and the purple flower-print pillow was also mine when I was little. My room used to be nothing but pink and purple and white, but mostly pink. Amazingly, it was not scary or overwhelming, but very soothing. Sigh. It **is** the calm before the storm. Bwahaha. You guessed right._

_Kitty Felone: Yes, you will see more of his changes later, his loss of humanity. Funny how you have such a crush on him:)_

_Hiju- The proper stance for disemboweling an opponent._

_Tarei'hasan- Unworthy opponent._

_Nihkou'te- Tooth or tusk._

_Setg'in-kwei- Tricky and quick._

Chapter four

Matt and Lee sat down on a bench in the mall, waiting for her four friends and their boyfriends. Matt and Celia had woken up early that morning, at about eight, which was long before anyone else would get up. First, they had wandered around for a couple hours, catching up on things and waiting for the mall to open. Then they spent another few hours browsing stores, which, unfortunately, were mostly clothing stores. However, Matt did drag Lee into a bookstore and wheedled her into buying him a couple of nice, long novels. He also went into a store that sold weapons replicas, daggers, swords and hunting knives. Matt amazed the shopkeeper by telling him that most of the bladed weapons he stocked were imbalanced and good only for decoration and that his supplier was cheating him. He then proceeded to teach him how to tell if a blade was balanced or flawed. Now the two were going to see a movie with Celia's group. Matt leaned back on the bench and stretched, then crossed his muscular arms and gazed around at the passing shoppers. Suddenly, a shrill squeal cut through the Muzak and the faint din of the shoppers! Matt started and glanced wildly around. He saw three teenage girls rushing towards them. Celia jumped up and hugged each of them, giggling and squealing herself.

"Where's Jessica?" Matt knew that Jessica was the friend that Lee was living with, but he didn't know any of the others. "Didn't she escape the clutches of the parental units?" continued Lee.

"No," replied a girl with dyed black hair and pink tips. "We were going to grab her, but your foster father didn't let her because of her marks situation."

"Shit." said his sister. "I wanna introduce you to someone." she said with a grin, turning to Matt. He stood up.

His sensitive ears caught the one with the pink tips muttering, "Finally!"

"This is my brother Matt."

There was a flurry of gasps and the same girl said, "I'm Erin. Are you single?" The other two girls let out indignant shrieks and giggles. Celia introduced the other two girls as Carrie and Monica. They were shyer than Erin, but only slightly so. They both seemed rather stereotypical. Monica had dark brown hair to shoulder length and was slightly chubby. She wore a black shirt with 'Product of Society' emblazoned on the front and dark blue jeans and a studded belt. She was rather heavy on the eyeliner and had an eyebrow and nose piercing. Carrie's hair was bleached blonde and came to the centre of her back in a series of dramatic layers. She was wearing a pink Roxy t-shirt and acid washed jeans. She radiated an air of dumb-blondeness. Compared to Erin's bright red t-shirt layered over a long sleeved yellow shirt, paint splattered black jeans, hot pink suspenders dangling from her studded belt and plaid purse covered in patches and pins, dripping with beads and various piercings, they were boring.

"Come on," Lee said, "Let's find the boys." She started off in a totally new direction. Matt followed, three teenage girls clustered around him. Erin was actually hanging off his arm. They pestered him constantly with a din of questions; Where were you? How did you get so buff? How much can you bench-press? Why do you have that funny scar on your forehead? Where did you get it? Did it hurt? Why didn't you say you were coming? How did you break your nose? Are you single? Etc… They didn't even care that he didn't answer a single question; they just seemed happy asking them. As he walked they constantly touched his scars, his nose, his brand, Erin ran her hands over his arms… Celia glanced back at his distinctly uncomfortable face and cackled evilly. Matt shot a venomous glare worthy of any Yautja at her. He most defiantly did _not _like having all these empty-headed females hanging off him! Matt had never been very successful in the dating world with his reputation as a nerd and his anti-social ways, and then among the Yautja, females did nothing to try to impress the males; rather it was the other way around. Even if he had found them attractive (he didn't find the Yautja ugly anymore, only different, but still!), the thought of courting a nine-foot female with bigger biceps than his thigh was slightly more than a daunting thought. He just wasn't used to having females practically fighting over him, to being the centre of attention.

"Landis!" Celia called blissfully, running into the arms of a tall red-headed boy, wearing a letter jacket, clearly a football player. He laughed and swung her around. Matt narrowed his eyes. Three other boys emerged out of the crowd behind. They glowered at Matt. Oh, great. Erin wasn't single and was hanging off him. She let go and walked over to a much older, dark skinned, dark haired, unbelievably tall boy. But then again, he was defiantly not under eighteen, so he really couldn't be called a boy anymore. As he neared, Matt stopped in shock, as did Erin's boyfriend. He recognized him. That was Jose 'Ram' Ramirez. The star football player when Matt was in high school. He also enjoyed beating Matt up every week. The other two boys had also been in Jose's little jock clique that bullied him. George Harrison and Damien Sinclair. Thankfully, no Landis had ever bullied him. They recognized him as well and returned equally cold glares. Great. He had his former enemies thinking their girlfriends were cheating on them with him. Guess they weren't former enemies anymore. The girls made the introductions, rather surprised when they knew each other already.

"Let's go!" squealed Monica. "We'll be late for the movie!" Matt was again dragged off, this time to the movie theatre.

Once there, Lee ordered that everyone give her their money because she would buy the tickets. She bought tickets for some new action movie that was supposed to be really good. Then they went over to the snack line. Matt moved into line behind Lee, but was shoved aside by Landis, Jose, Damien and George.

"Sorry, dipshits to the back of the line." hissed Landis. Matt felt a warm flame of anger kindle under his breastbone. His eyes narrowed. For the past two years he had been challenged to fights in much the same manner. They didn't perform the signal quite right, but he still knew they wanted to fight to assert their dominance. Matt glared as he trailed after the rest into the dark theatre.

Matt found the movie exceedingly boring. This type used to be his very favorite, but now it was just a series of impossible stunts, CG animation and cheesy dialogue that filled in the places where people couldn't be beaten to a pulp or shot. Matt knew that with his new muscles and greater speed, he could probably do a few stunts and defiantly knew that the Yautja could have done a few more. It was still mostly impossible though. He realized that he no longer idolized the actors in it; they rarely did anything dangerous, they were overpaid, they were false. He risked his life more in one hunt than they did in their entire lives. Matt almost wanted to laugh, it was so pathetic! Celia, her friends and their boyfriends seemed to like it well enough though; they laughed, gasped, and looked outraged, gaped in shock as someone did something particularly amazing or horrible in all the right places. Matt wished it would end soon.

They walked out of the theatre, enthused and jabbering madly. Matt curled his lip at it.

"We're going to the washroom." announced Carrie. Why did girls always talk about that and why did they always go all at once? "Wait here for us." Matt nodded absentmindedly and slouched against the wall between the two bathrooms. He glanced at an obscenely bright movie poster, screaming out announcements on its special effects and the stars featured in it. He drew in a deep breath, when suddenly, two hands grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him into the men's room. He didn't resist and was slammed into the wall around the corner. Matt stared into the enraged face of Jose.

"I want you to stay the fuck away from Erin! She's mine! I'm not going to have her stolen away from me by some fucking _pendeho_! Got that _culero_?" he snarled. Matt gazed blandly into the football player's black eyes. His serene face hid his anger. "The rest of my friends want you to stay away from their girls too!"

There was a chorus of, "Yeah!" and "Fucker!" and "Hell, yeah, shithead!"

Jose growled, "Just because you came back here with a new tough look doesn't mean that we can't still kick your ass!" Matt stared around at them while he slowly reached up, face passive. He fastened his hands around Jose's wrists and began squeezing. Very quickly, the anger on the Hispanic boy's face turned into a grimace of pain, maybe even fear. Matt slowly pulled Jose's hands off him and bore down. Jose was much taller than Matt and an athlete, but his strength was no contest.

"I did not try to steal your girls. They came at me themselves. Perhaps you are not being the ideal boyfriends if you are worried about losing them?" Matt said, standing tall and raising his chin slightly, like a dominant Yautja. "If you wish to remain with everything still attached, _NEVER_ grab me like that again!" he snarled. Matt threw Jose down like a rag doll. "Females belong to no one but themselves!" he added. Damien threw a punch. Matt caught his hand and sent him into the tiled wall. Landis and George moved to attack him as soon as Damien hit the wall. Matt growled and crouched, moving into the Hiju, the preferred battle stance of most Yautja. It was also known as the proper stance for disemboweling an opponent, especially when one had claws or was holding a knife, as Matt was now doing. That got the teenager's attention. "If you Tarei'hasans still want to fight so badly, meet me in the Park tonight at midnight. Come unarmed, we'll settle this quickly, I think. You don't look very dangerous." he said menacingly with a savage grin. "I can probably have you running home by twelve ten, crying for your mothers to kiss your owies." That insult didn't seem to come from him. Maybe he had been sending too much time with Nihkou'te. That Yautja's mouth frequently got him into trouble.

Jose snarled wordlessly, but was cut short by Erin calling, "Hey, Jose, where'd you go? Come on. You can drive me home."

"Someone's pussywhipped." hissed Matt as Jose brushed by him.

"Fuck you, _culo_." Actually, all male Yautja were, since they had to impress females if they wanted anything, but it ensured that the football player would show up. The other three boys stalked out. Matt slipped his knife back into the sheath under his arm before following. He saw Landis plant a kiss on Lee's lips as soon as he stepped out.

"Listen, honey, I gotta get home right away, OK?"

"Yeah, OK. Why do you have to rush off like that though?" "Some stuff came up." Liar. Matt thought. Coward.

"Bye, see you at the party, then."

"Uh, huh." Landis stomped off. That guy so does not deserve Lee, he thought angrily.

"Huh. Wonder what got into them?" mused Celia as she and Matt walked out.

"Don't know." replied Matt.

"Like the movie?"

"Oh, erm, sure, it was great."

"Liar. Why didn't you?"

"It all seemed so false. Besides, none of the actors did any of the stunts. They should do them."

Celia laughed. "You sound like you could do better!"

"I probably could. Or Setg'in-kwei. He's a pretty good acrobat because he isn't so heavily muscled. Same with Nihkou'te. One of his brothers became a ceremonial drum dancer and taught him all sorts of weird tricks."

"If you ever decide to live on Earth full-time again, you could teach stunts!" Matt grinned.

"Maybe." His sister glanced at her watch.

"Oh, crap! Hurry or we'll be late for the family dinner! My foster parents said it would start at five!" She took off like a bat out of hell.

"Family dinner?" muttered Matt with a growing feeling of dread before he broke into a long legged run after Lee.


	5. Chapter 5

_I LIIIIIVE! Yes, I have returned from my long absence in the fanfiction realm. Ugh, I just didn't feel like writing and I was preoccupied by grad. It took almost a month to write this, so you'd better appreciate it! Remember to check my page for character bios! _

_Ooh, I think I forgot this before but: I own nothing but Matt, Celia and the personalities of my characters. Steal those and die._

_Rangertough: My characters always have enhanced emotions. They don't always hide their true feelings well if they aren't well developed. I haven't had a huge amount of experiance with boyfriends and such, but I have seen teenage guys get really pissed over teeny little things._

_Olgite the squidgal: I'm working on a long one-shot about their music! It was inspired by a well-drawn piece called 'Demon drums' on elfwood. I don't remember the artist's name though._

_K: I probly won't, although, you never know._

_Golden Wind: You'll just have to see! (evil grin)_

_Bastet1023: Living hell for Matt! Ooh I torture him so horribly in this story! Poor him, he needs a restraining order against the crazed authoress._

_Lord Azrael: I would sooo love to beat the crap out of everysingle erson that bullied me in elementary! Matt's kind of living my dream for me. I've not had much of a problem with bullies in High school, probly because I hang out with the Goths, hippies and art freaks now. Maybe they're scared of my friends…'Course, I am an art freak, so maybe they leave me alone cuz I'm weird._

Chapter five

Matt nervously began cutting his steak, moving a little awkwardly since he had not used any sort of cutlery besides a knife in over four years. The Yautja didn't really have table manners except for during the banquets. That only consisted of letting the Elders and high ranked warriors grab their food first, not throwing food and not getting too overly pissed and acting like an idiot. Now he had to re-remember all the complicated human table manners. He felt Celia's foster father's gaze burning into the top of his head. Celia's foster father had the blocky build of an ex-football player, graying brown hair and piercingly pale gray eyes. Mr. Stirling was not someone to mess with, as Matt was quickly learning. Mrs. Stirling was fashionable, blonde and slim, despite her age. She had a fake n' bake tan, was motherly and nervous. Celia's stepbrother, Tomas, was a typical teenager; baggy jeans, baggy t-shirt, unkempt, shaggy brown hair and a slouch. Jessica took after her mother. She too was slim, but short and a natural blonde. She and Celia had similar clothes; jeans and a t-shirt. Though they had many similarities, Matt was quite convinced that she was much stupider.

"So," said Mr. Stirling as he stabbed a bite with his fork and impaled Matt with his gaze. "Where have you been the last four years? It's like you just vanished off the face of the Earth." Matt nearly choked on a carrot. Forcing himself to finish chewing and swallow down the right tube, he frantically tried to find a plausible explanation for his absence that didn't involve spaceships or seven foot aliens.

"I, um, went on a class for… university, to this really remote location in South America, to, erm, study the culture of a native tribe. Yeah."

Mr. Stirling grunted and scowled. "If it's for school than why haven't you phoned? E-mailed? Written? Hmm?"

"It was really isolated and we weren't allowed to bring outside technology in there because they wanted to keep the natives as natural as possible." He didn't look convinced. "They were newly discovered and knew hardly anything about the outside world."

"What is the name of this tribe?"

Matt blurted out "Yautja." before he had a chance to think of anything else. Lee glanced sharply at him.

"Yowtja?" said Mrs. Stirling. "That's a strange name."

"It's not Yowtja, its Yautja. Th-"

"So you speak those savage's language? Let's hear some." Matt flinched at the insult, but sighed and complied with the order. It was a better idea to be submissive in this situation.

"Hmm… Thin'de le'hasuan 'aloun'myin-del bpi-de gke-de hasou-de paya."

"That sounded soo cool!" exclaimed Tomas, revealing his age to be much less than he previously thought. "Say something else!"

Mr. Stirling frowned. "What does it mean?"

"Learn the gifts of all sights or finish in the dance of the fallen gods."

"Sounds like a damn riddle, or a bloody bunch of gibberish."

"George! Watch your language!" commanded his wife. Ooh, Matt thought, she'd just die if she could hear how often the Yautja curse.

"It is an old saying among their warrior caste." He grunted again and eating resumed in silence. Matt finished his steak and started to finish his veggies. He missed proper Earth vegetables. Sure, the ones that the Yautja ate were exotic and usually tasty, but many didn't agree with him. It was quite a trial for Guan-Thwei and him in his first few weeks to discover what he could eat. Their attempts resulted in stomach cramps, vomiting and other less pleasant side effects from the alien plants.

He started calming down and feeling less threatened by Mr. Stirling, when: "Are you in a gang? Is that why you've been missing? Is that why you have so many scars and that big one on your forehead? It looks like a gang sign to me, and I won't have my kids exposed to that kind of crap. Even though Celia is your sister she lives in my house, under my rules." Matt glanced at Lee, who gave a tiny shrug. Oomans asked so pauk-de many questions! He felt sorry for his Yautja friends and what they had to put up with for such a long time. Tomas's eyes, which before held only boredom and teenage hostility, now held a seed of interest. So only when there was talk of organized crime and warriors did Tomas perk up and stop stewing in his own angst. He knew without looking that Jessica was staring at him in adoration and Mrs. Stirling was glaring at him coldly and suspiciously. He could also feel the aggression and anger coming off Mr. Stirling. He'd never noticed that he could smell rage on humans. He wished they would stop being prejudiced bastards. He'd have to tread carefully and be political.

"It isn't a gang marking."

"Than what the hell is it? You sure as hell didn't get it by accident."

"It is the sign of a warrior and an adult. I joined the warriors because it helped them accept us better. I received it during the manhood ritual. I'm considered an adult and a blooded warrior among them now." Matt couldn't read Mr. Stirling's emotion now.

"So what does a blooded warrior do then?"

"We hunt, conquer and defend the rest."

Tomas sat bolt upright and said excitedly, "Did you ever fight in a war?"

Matt blinked. "No. They weren't having any conflicts then."

"How'd you get all those scars then?"

"Tomas!" exclaimed Mrs. Stirling. "That's very rude!"

"Sorry Mum." Tomas said sullenly.

"No, no, it's fine. I got them on hunts."

"What kind of animals did you hunt?" rumbled Mr. Stirling. Matt began to hope he was just a protective good ol' boy.

"Dangerous ones."

"What for?"

"Trophies, mostly."

"We despise hunting. It is barbaric and unnecessary." Mrs. Stirling said loftily. Matt took a deep breath. She was getting on his nerves with all her high and mighty-ness.

"They do not know better. They do it for status." Speaking like that about the Yautja grated on his nerves. "

They ought to be civilized and converted. We don't believe in destructive religions like that." Matt rolled his eyes. As if Christianity didn't cause almost every single war in the past two thousand years. At least among the Yautja, they didn't war about slightly different beliefs. He was glad he hadn't been uber-religious before and now followed the Yautja's religion.

"Bloody savages." growled Mr. Stirling.

"The Yautja are noble and honorable! They are _not _savages!" Matt snarled. Celia looked uncomfortable and shifted from side to side. Mr. Stirling glared, nostrils flared, face blotchy red, a vein throbbing in his forehead. Matt glared right back. He had been taught to glare by the masters. No one could glare like a Yautja. He knew this wouldn't lead to anything productive, but he was beyond caring and too proud to step down. Instead Celia stepped in. Mr. Stirling broke gaze first.

"Umm, you know that you just insulted the people that Matt has been living with for the past four years, right? Maybe he doesn't share the same views as you. He is the one that has gotten to know them." Her foster father closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He seemed to be mentally counting to ten, or maybe three hundred.

Without opening them, he said slowly, "It wasn't polite of me to say that. Now let's not go back to this." Matt gave Celia a thoughtful look and returned to his forgotten food. It seemed Mr. Stirling had an anger problem when his personal views were challenged.

…..

After dessert, ice cream, Matt was sent into the living room while they cleaned up the kitchen. Tomas was sent in with him, supposedly because he helped earlier, though Matt knew the real reason was because Mr. and Mrs. Stirling still didn't believe he wasn't in a gang. He sat on the couch, twiddling his thumbs nervously. Tomas sat in an over stuffed green chair staring intently at him.

"So."

"So what?"

"So are you really in a gang? That's what my parents believe."

"No." sighed Matt. "I have been staying with a foreign culture."

He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "It's alright to tell me. I won't say anything."

"Pauk! Why won't anyone believe me?"

"Sorry. Tell me about this tribe thinger." Matt thought for a couple minutes and decided to tell him a highly edited version since he seemed harmless and wouldn't blab.

"The Yautja are hunters and warriors naturally. Almost every… Man becomes one, unless he's crippled, inferior or it is by personal choice. The women run all the tribes."

"Why do they hunt all the time?"

"It is for status and trophies and to impress the females because unless the males prove they are vigorous and strong, they don't get anything from the females, if you know what I mean." Tomas laughed loudly.

"Why do you hunt then? You aren't living with them permanently, are you?" Tomas smiled wickedly. "You're trying to impress one of their women, aren't you?" Matt blanched at the thought of having any sort of intimate relationship with a female Yautja.

"No, I'm really not trying to do that! It's for the status and I like it."

"How do you get into this school program thing? It sounds like it would be fun. I want to be a warrior." Matt sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then rubbed the scar. It was a movement very similar to Guan-Thwei's. He saw himself in the younger boy. Over eager, bored with normal life and naïve.

"Trust me on this, Tomas. You don't want to be a warrior. It is one of the most difficult and dangerous things you could be. I'm not going to tell you more because you don't need to know." Tomas scowled and threw himself into the chair, arms crossed on his chest. In the sudden silence, Matt caught stray words and phrases from Mr. and Mrs. Stirling through the closed kitchen door.

Mr. Stirling: "Gang… Dangerous… Hair like a damned hippie… Celia…"

Mrs. Stirling: "Pagan… False… Two-faced… All lies…" He growled.

…..

"Are you sure you don't need to stay the night?" Mrs. Stirling asked, even though she clearly didn't want him there. She was being the good hostess.

"No, no. I'm staying with a friend from the tribe who's coming here on a short visit."

"Oh."

"He doesn't speak much English."

"That's nice." she said, though she didn't think it was nice at all. She laughed, loudly and falsely. "Well don't let me keep you from your friend! Goodbye!"

"Bye." muttered Matt. He knew a new word likely to be added to Mrs. Stirling's list of descriptive words about Matt; homosexual. Yeah, right.

"I'll see you later, Matt!" yelled Celia.

"Bye, Sis!" he called back before the door shut. He dropped the cheerful face and stalked away, immediately becoming the hunter. His eyes flicked towards every sound and identified it, evaluated it and discarded it. His footsteps were smooth, long and silent. He patted the brace of throwing daggers around his waist, hidden beneath the coat. They were specially made, elegant weapons. The blades were long and thin and very, very sharp. The hilts were decorated in twisting designs, like rope. The pommels were forged in the shape of complicated knots. Each knife was perfectly balanced. They daggers had not come cheap from Thwei-Tjau'ke. He still owed him a lot of work still. Matt grinned coldly and laughed, a low cruel sound as he entered the park. Oh, it was going to feel so good to vent his frustrations on these stupid oomans who crossed him.


	6. Chapter 6

_Aahhh! I'm done school! Super scary stuff! Now I have to get a job and go to university and start to do adult things. Blah. I posted the first two chapters of my Gargoyles fanfic, so check it out. I've been developing my character for five years in that story, so it shall be good. _

_Thunderbird: You're just going to have to see what I put my poor little Thwei-Tjau'ke through!_

_BAstet1023: Tomas probly won't because of some stuff that is coming up, but no hints for you:)_

_Olgite the Squidgal: The artist responded to my comments. Once I finish my story based off her pic, I'll tell her so she can put a link up. Coolness, huh?_

_Golden Wind: don't really think any miracle will be happening soon… As for the killing, um, read on!_

_Kitty Felone: Mmmm, Yautja. Mmmm, Guan-Thwei. (drool)_

_Lord Azrael: My updates aren't going to be as frequent now because I have to write each chapter (no pre-written stuff) and you do want it to be good, right? No nasty, crap writing for moi! Also, expect a massive wait in about a month because I get to go to Ottawa on a cross Canada road trip! But maybe I'll put two chapters up… Reviews pweese!_

_Thwei-Tjau'ke: Bloodstone._

_Hiju: Fighting stance._

_Kainde Amedha: Hard Meat, Xenomorphs._

_Spanish words_

_Puto: Basically, the masculine version of bitch._

_Pendeho: Idiot._

_Just a note, this is El Salvadorian Spanish, which is different from Mexican Spanish. I'm not sure, but some differences may be in the words I use. Bear with me._

Chapter six

"Did that fucking _puto _bother coming?" growled Jose as he slouched into the midst of the group, trailed by two lanky Hispanic boys. Damian and George were already there with another two football players.

"No. The pussy didn't show up." said Damien with a scowl. "Little freak. He left for four years and came back even weirder. He probably won't even get here." he continued.

"No kidding. He looks like a fag with his hair long!" snickered George.

One of the new boys announced: "If this asshole isn't here in ten minutes, I'm getting the hell out of here." There was murmured agreement. A Hispanic boy produced battered pack of cigarettes and offered it around. Damien and one of his friends accepted one each and they began smoking, the ends tiny orange stars in the blackness. Low, cruel laughter danced through the night air. The object of their rages emerged silently from a band of trees.

"That's terrible for your health. You'll be out of breath and go down quicker." Matt said, a deadly smile on his face, his eyes dark, empty and cold with pent-up aggression.

…..

Matt observed his opponents, taking in their appearances. Jose, his two friends and one of the other boys had at least one knife each in their pockets. One appeared to have nothing, and the others had unknown, lumpy objects. They were all dressed in dark colors.

"I've been here the whole time. I watched each of you arrive." Matt said. He noted that Damien and George's two friends shifted uncomfortably. "You've never heard of a fair fight, oomans?" he asked as he adjusted the thin leather gloves on his hands, making sure the studs were correctly placed over his knuckles. He slid into the Hiju, arms spread. "Cowards." he whispered loud enough for all to hear. Jose growled and muttered something in Spanish, putting up his fists like a boxer.

"Come on." he said, beckoning with one hand. Matt advanced slowly; they circled around like wild creatures. Thwei-Tjau'ke had taught him not to be over-eager when your opponent is faster, bigger and stronger than you. It probably didn't matter now, but it was a habit that was difficult to break. Jose made the first move, charging, swinging his fists wildly. Matt dodged easily, always just that crucial amount ahead of the tall boy. He grinned broadly; he was going to enjoy this!

He seized Jose's fist and swung him with a grunt into the others, who scattered. He stood tall and rubbed his chin thoughtfully with his left hand, the other holding his elbow.

"I'll take you, you and you." His right hand jabbed at Jose, Damien and George. "You lot can watch them get their asses kicked." he smirked to the newcomers. They attacked hesitantly. Matt blocked and feinted, not striking a single blow, infuriating them. With a roar, the short-tempered Damien threw himself at Matt! He braced himself and rammed his shoulder into Damien's stomach, catapulting the blonde boy over in a perfect flip. He was immediately tackled by George, his arms twisted painfully behind his back. Jose punched him once, twice, in the stomach before Matt kicked him in the face with both feet and slammed the back of his head into George's nose. He regained his balance, shaking out his twinging arms and turned warily. Damien was standing again. Matt leaped forwards and slapped him, a move intended to demean and infuriate his enemy. He ducked just as Damien's big, meaty fist came swinging by. The breeze ruffled the stray pieces of hair that escaped his loose ponytail. That sucker was big and dumb as a doorknob, but he sure had a swift fist! Matt punched Damien's stomach and found it soft and inviting to his fists. Much nicer than the hard muscle of a Yautja. He slammed his fists in over and over again, and then finished with a powerful upper-cut. Damien slumped over, completely unconscious. He whirled just as Jose roundhouse kicked at his head. His lightning fast reflexes saved him; instead of striking head, Jose's foot struck Matt's hands, which locked around his ankle. Matt twisted hard, dropping Jose quickly with a blood curdling howl. Jose gripped his knee in agony and howled again, but still had the sense to roll away.

"GET HIM NOW, YOU PENDEHOS!" he roared. Matt was simultaneously attacked by the five remaining teenagers.

…..

It was like battling a hive of Kainde Amedha. Every sense had to be in peak condition and you could not concentrate on any one opponent longer than the time it took to strike a blow, or they enveloped you, crushed you. One of his elbows crunched into someone's nose. A fist clipped his ear, than another flew into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. A hand grabbed his hair. Matt twisted and boxed an ear. His hair was released, ending the agony in his scalp. He threw someone down while hands scrabbled at his muscled torso, searching for something soft to grab. They found none. Matt seized George and slammed his foot into his stomach, than his groin. One down. He wound his fingers into the longish hair of one of the Hispanic boys and grabbed the collar of another, slamming their foreheads into each other with a sound like two coconuts being knocked together. A glancing blow only. Something slammed into the back of his head, hard. Matt reeled as spots danced before his eyes. He was whacked in the stomach than punched in the face three times before his guard was up again. He took out one of Damien's friends by a swift punch to the throat. He was inflicting much more damage than he took; even though he was outnumbered! Matt almost laughed as a new bout of adrenaline rushed through his system. Injuries be damned, he was having fun! Suddenly, silver flashed in the moonlight. Matt jumped back, his body stretching into a smooth, long line, as it swept across his body, a white hot pain. He completed two handsprings before he landed lightly in a crouch. He touched the rip in his windbreaker and shirt, the skin underneath. His hand came back stained with his blood. Matt stood straight and held up his hands.

"Alright, alright. Timeout. No knives! This is hand to hand combat only!" He glared at Jose's remaining friend, at the knife smeared with his own blood, gripped tightly in a fist. They glared back. They all held weapons now. Two held blades and the other wore a set of very nasty looking brass knuckles. "I thought this was fair combat. If you are allowed to have knives, than I will use mine and mine are bigger, sharper and I know how to use them one hundred times better." He flashed the hilt of one blade. The others didn't move. Matt felt a twinge of unease at their silence. His hackles rose. _Click!_ The metallic noise of something releasing rang through the night. Matt froze for an instant before his instincts took over. His hand snaked into his jacket and fastened around the smooth hilt of a throwing knife. He turned while his arm straightened, flinging the dagger through the air. This took only a few bare milliseconds. A wet thump sounded. Matt was stopped in the position he threw the knife in, right arm extended, partially crouched, right leg straight and bracing him. It took a moment for his mind to take back over from his instinct that had saved his life so many dozens of times. Another teenager stood swaying a short distance away. His throat worked and a strangled choking noise emerged. Something fell from his hand, landing heavily in the long, dewy grass. The boy teetered over backwards. Matt was in motion at once, catching him before his head could strike the ground, lowering him safely. His ornate silvery dagger protruded from the exact centre of his chest, just below the collarbone. Over half the blade was embedded. Dark, viscous liquid bubbled between his lips as a great, shuddering sigh wracked his whole body.

Matt bared his teeth and murmured, "Shit." He looked at the others, both standing, lying down and leaning and registered the shock, fear and disgust on their faces. "SHIT!" he exclaimed.

_Mwahahahahaha! Cliffhanger! Please review for faster updates!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Thankies for being patient. I have returned from my cross-Canada trip! Whee! It was ever so fun. It took eight days to drive to Ottawa. I went to Manitou Lake, Sask., Brandon, Manitoba, Winnipeg, Manitoba and a whole bunch of little towns in Ontario. I advise you to go to Manitou Lake because it is like the Dead Sea. You must also see the museum in Winnipeg, the RCMP museum in Brandon, the Bruce Peninsula, Ottawa, Quebec City and the Hershey Factory. Do it. Right now. Chop chop. Never drive through Toronto because it will take over four hours. Also, don't take a taxi in Quebec City because they are SCARY! It could easily result in death by heart attack. Cross-Canada trips are fun except for the flight back, which I now refer to affectionately as the "Flight From Hell". Anyway, enough of my jabber and propaganda. On to things actually related to the story._

_Vereia Fornnan: Yup! Although, technically, he's over eighteen, so he's not a kid._

_Max: Yeah. I just decided to shake things up a little. Hee._

_Golden Wind: Shit, shit and double shit! You'll just have to see how Lee takes it when she finds out. (evil grin)_

_Thunder Demon: You think? Hmm, never done mystery before. All I seem to be good at is action/adventure and gore. Lots and lots of gore. But if you think so, yay!_

_Shards: Muahaha! I AM THE LORD OF CLIFFHANGERS (yes, I know lord is for guys. But mistress doesn't sound right, kind of kinky)! Uber is a good word._

_Kitty Felone: Look below. He wasn't planning on killing anyone, but he knew not to trust those damn dirty bullies, so that's why he brought his weapons. The incident in the bathroom was what got the others to bring weapons since they thought he would try to cut them up, so they decided to gang up a bit more. Did it clear that up?_

_Pirotess: At last, the lurkers are emerging! I likes the hit counter. I likes it good._

_Olgite the Squidgal: Better not have lost your mighty pinky-nail grip!_

_Pauk: Fuck._

_Thwei-Tjau'ke: Bloodstone._

_Tjau'ke: Stone._

_Guan-Thwei: Night blood._

_Pyode Amedha: Soft Meat._

_I apologize for any insanity and babbling. It is three AM._

Chapter seven

Matt leaned over and put his cheek by the teenager's mouth. Nothing. Then he pressed his fingers under the boy's jaw. Again, nothing. He sighed and rocked back on his heels, then, in a moment of sudden panic, he leant forwards and peered intently at the dead boy's face. It was too hard edged and too lean to be Tomas's face. What would Celia think if he killed her foster brother? He reached out and closed the boy's staring eyes already going glassy in the moonlight. The grass rustled behind him and a solitary cricket clicked. Matt turned his head far enough to see George limping closer.

"You… You killed Jake! Holy f-fuck man! You psycho! You're a fucking murderer!" he stuttered.

Matt replied softly, "I was a murderer long before tonight." Poor Ni'il-este…

"How many others?" George blurted.

Matt laughed bitterly. "Just one."

"Why the fuck would you do that?" Matt picked up the small revolver gingerly between two fingers.

"Does this answer your question? He would have shot me in the back."

"But… But…" Matt rolled his eyes and reached out, wrapping a calloused hand around the hilt. With a wet squelch, Matt wrenched the blade from the corpse's chest. George recoiled, staggering from his injured leg. The warrior cleaned the blade on Jake's pants. He stood slowly and sheathed it. His menacing gaze traveled around the group. They stood (or sat) frozen in fear and shock.

"I belong to an ancient group of warriors. There are more of us than you will ever know. Breathe a single word of this to anyone and it will reach my ears. I will hunt you down and kill you. I know where each of you live and will not hesitate to track you down to your very bedrooms. If not me, than one of my fellow warriors will kill you to keep your silence." A lie, but they didn't know that. Matt crouched and hefted the body onto his shoulders. He felt a warm, thick liquid begin to trickle down his neck. "Go home and be _silent_! Hold your tongue or I will remove it before I hack off your head, skin you and hang you from your front porch!" Matt snarled. George ran limping home immediately, leaving his friends to pick themselves up and limp home. Damien was still unconscious and had to be dragged away.

…..

Oh, pauk! This was going to put a crimp in his plans! Now he had a body to take care of as well! The solitary cricket clicked again.

"Thwei-Tjau'ke, you can uncloak now." A burst of electricity revealed the crippled hunter.

He shook his head and rumbled, "M'aat-hew. Look what you've done!" He gave a short, trilling laugh.

"It's not funny! Help me get rid of it!"

Thwei-Tjau'ke put his head to the side and said, "Why don't you skin it, take its skull and then hang it from a tree? You killed it fairly and no ooman will think that another ooman did it."

"Yeah, I don't think so. I'm covered in enough ooman gore for now." Matt started walking off into the forest. Thwei-Tjau'ke's limping footsteps quickly started behind him. They walked in silence for several minutes before Thwei-Tjau'ke spoke up again.

"I saw the fight."

"I know." snapped Matt.

"You shouldn't have let those dishonorable Pyode Amedha walk away. They should have been killed. They will not keep their silence. You-"

"Just let me deal with one body for now." Matt growled. The Yautja clicked, disliking being cut off. "I'll deal with them later if they say anything."

"They will." Thwei-Tjau'ke said simply. "And if you do not kill them, the Arbitrators will kill you." A shiver ran down Matt's spine. The Arbitrators would not get him; Guan-Thwei would. He vividly remembered Guan-Thwei's little speech on what he would do if he ever lost his honor.

"You will not have to worry about that."

…..

Matt grunted and heaved the body off his shoulders. It landed with a crunch in the thick bed of leaves. Matt bent down and searched the body's pockets for I.D. He found a bank card, driver's license and a few crumpled notes from friends besides change. He left the change and took the rest.

"Do you have any rope on you?" he asked the watching Yautja.

"You should be better prepared, M'aat-hew." reprimanded Thwei-Tjau'ke, but he drew a coil of the slender, ultra strong and acid resistant rope the hunters always carried with them out of a belt pouch. He tossed it to Matt. He snatched it out of the air and ambled down to the river bank to begin searching through the accumulated piles of stone for long ones, particularly rough rocks. After a few trips, he had about a half dozen rocks. Then Matt began tying and looping the cord around the first stone, then cut it with the serrated side of the large knife that was in his ankle sheath, leaving about three feet loose. He proceeded to do the same with the rest of the rocks. Thwei-Tjau'ke watched with interest. "Are you making a kind of bola? Those tjau'ke are too big to be used."

"I'm not. These are weights. The ooman is going in the river."

"I see." said the Yautja, barely hiding his amusement. Clearly, this was a new idea; hiding the body instead of displaying it for all to see.

Finally, the stones were in place, bound tightly to either side of the corpse. Matt made to stand, but then, on a whim, he stabbed the corpse's belly deeply and dragged the blade through its abdomen, cutting to form an 'X'. Now the putrid gases of decomposition would not accumulate (he hoped) and lead to the unfortunate habit of bodies floating to the surface. With that, he cleaned the knife blade, sheathed it and began to heave the body up again. With the added weight of the rocks, it was almost too much to manage. Matt staggered into the water, sloshing deeper and deeper while the current tugged at his clothes and swirled around his legs. At a little bit past waist height, he decided it was deep enough and threw the corpse off his shoulders. The black water closed in on the pale face and dark hair of the body. He watched it sink, then turned around and waded back. He started to shiver violently as a light breeze decided to blow and chilled his sodden body. Going wading in a cold river in late October was not a good idea, especially when you are used to tropical heat.

"I need to get back to the ship. Now." he said through chattering teeth, clutching his body.

…..

Matt groaned and plunged his body into the steaming hot bath. It chased the iciness from his core. The baths on Thwei-Tjau'ke's ship were not the extensive ones on the clan ship, but they sufficed nicely. He winced as the water hit the gash on his muscled stomach. He leant back on the polished stone side of the bath and relaxed, letting the hot water soothe his bruises and sore muscles, his mind blissfully blank. Matt lost track of time, but when the heat started to make him feel pleasantly sleepy, he decided to scrub off any crusted blood that remained. Reaching up to undo the leather thong that held his long hair back, Matt encountered a thick, matted crust of blood. He grimaced and ducked under. He came up spluttering and grabbed for the cake of strong soap. He freed his hair of the gore, scrubbed any remaining stains from himself, then climbed out and reached for the thick coarse woven towels. Matt dried himself, tied the towel around his waist and quickly finger-combed his hair. Now for the unpleasant part: treating his gashes, bruises and splits. He made sure to use plenty of the liquid that would reduce the swelling and discoloration of injuries on his face. No sense in worrying Lee.


	8. Chapter 8

_Urgh. Bloody long chapter. I hope you appreciate it. Actually, I quite like this chapter. It amused me and I got to put in some of the strange costumes I've seen at school. I love Halloween. Mean Girls is one hundred percent right about the costumes of most teenage girls. See if you can find my little not so subtle movie reference and guess what the Fallopian Swimteam is. _

_Golden Wind: Heh. You'll just have to see who is the stupidest out of the group. Matt is also quite desensitized to killing things now and doesn't think of himself as totally human anymore. The murder is more seen as an inconvenience than anything else._

_Bastet1023: You are much smarter than the idiot jocks._

_Kitty Felone: I didn't make it Tomas because that would be a bit silly. I mean, Matt didn't do anything to him that would provoke an attempt on his life. And I don't ever want this to turn into a silly, angsty 'I hate you for what you did, why did you do that' crap story. Those make me shudder. ;)_

_Ron: OK… I will._

_Lord Azrael: Hmmm, voodoo… That's a good idea. Never thought of that before. It's been too long since I watched Predator 2._

_Thwei-Tjau'ke: Bloodstone._

_Awu'asa: Full set of armor._

_Nihkou'te: Tooth or tusk._

_Guan-Thwei: Nightblood._

_Ell-osde'pauk: Fuck you._

_S'yuit'de: Shit or low and demeaning term._

_Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. (gives souvenir keychain to each reviewer.)_

Chapter eight

"Thwei-Tjau'ke, are you coming or not?" demanded an exasperated Matt, apparently speaking to a patch of moonlight and shadows.

"I do not think this is a good idea."

"Just uncloak yourself."

"No. I will be seen." Matt sighed and crossed his arms.

"That's the _point_! Look at me; I'm out here in _my _awu'asa!"

"You are an ooman."

"I'm an ooman wearing virtually the same armor as you! What makes you think that they won't make the same connection with you?"

"I have claws. Also, I am much bigger than any ooman." Thwei-Tjau'ke said, a hint of arrogance in his voice.

Matt replied, "Your 'costume' is better than mine. Some oomans can also get as big as you, or taller. I've seen them." Thwei-Tjau'ke was only about seven feet tall; most basketball players and wrestlers were as tall as or taller than him.

"This is not a costume." growled the Yautja, sounding offended.

"Don't be stupid. I know that. But the oomans won't." Thwei-Tjau'ke clicked his mandibles furiously for a moment, but his curiosity overwhelmed his caution.

"Then I will uncloak once I reach your sister's dwelling."

"Oh, yeah. That will go over well." Matt said sarcastically. "You want to scare the oomans? Then do that." Electricity crackled, revealing Thwei-Tjau'ke standing very close to a wall. He slowly limped out of the shadows, leaning on his spear, head twitching and darting at every noise as if he was plagued by a swarm of wasps. Shrill laughter and pounding footsteps echoed up the alley. Two children of indeterminate age came pelting madly up the street, laden pillowcases swinging wildly, pumpkin topped flashlights sending wild streaks of light in every direction.

"Nice costumes!" screamed one, dressed as a pirate.

"Ditto!" shrieked his friend, dressed as the Wolfman. Thwei-Tjau'ke stared after them.

"Told you." said Matt with a smirk.

"Ell-osde'pauk." muttered the Yautja sullenly. Matt laughed at him and started walking. "What is the point of this 'Ha'loh-we'en'?" the crippled Yautja said, carefully enunciating the foreign word, "Is it a ritual like the Feast of Cetanu?"

"It used to be all about the spirits of the dead and demons and other occulty s'yuit-de like that. Now it's about dressing up and getting candy."

"Tell me more about it." Matt brushed and strand of hair out of his eyes as he thought.

"Well, it used to have people playing really elaborate pranks on each other because they didn't get sweets or just for the heck of it."

"Like Nihkou'te does?" cut in Thwei-Tjau'ke.

"Yeah, sort of. Except they usually didn't result in pain and injury." Matt put his head to the side and said, "Mind you, I heard about this one really nasty one where an ooman would push over another ooman's latrine while they were in it, usually on the door so they couldn't get out. They would have to wait to be rescued or crawl out the hole where the ooman waste went." Thwei-Tjau'ke stared at him in disbelief. Matt nodded.

"That is disgusting." he rumbled simply.

"Yep."

"Don't tell Nihkou'te about that."

"Alright. Anyway, now it is about children dressing up and going door to door for candy. Not many oomans play tricks on each other anymore." Except, he noted sourly, when the odd house would get egged or T.P.-ed. The crippled warrior put his head to the side.

"Why are we not doing that? I would like to try this 'can-dee'."

"We are too old for it, silly! Especially you! Instead we are going to a party where there will be much loud music, drinking, eating and oomans in amusing costumes. And yes, Thwei-Tjau'ke, you will get to try your precious candy." They rounded the corner and started up the sidewalk towards the house. More small children flitted from house to house, laughing and giggling while being trailed by their much quieter parents. Loud music pulsed out from the large house at the end of the block. Once the two warriors reached the beginning of the crazy-paved walk, the taller of the two paused. "Your scars bothering you again?" asked Matt with concern.

"No… I do not think this is a good idea."

"Worried they'll sniff you out? Relax and you'll be fine."

"I do not speak your ooman languages." Thwei-Tjau'ke said, fiddling with the decorations on his spear.

"You have a translator so you'll know what they say. Just remember to keep off the thing that translates for you. I will take care of everything. The only ones that will know what you are will be me and Celia. Alright?" assured Matt.

"Alright." Thwei-Tjau'ke murmured uncertainly. "If any oomans start acting strangely, I will leave."

Matt nodded. "So will I. Ready for your first ooman party?" Without waiting for an answer, Matt hopped lightly up the steps and rang the doorbell.

…..

A blast of loud pop music greeted them, as well as beery fumes. Matt wrinkled his nose at the breath of the drunken teenager who opened the door. He was dressed as a caveman. A long tangled wig festooned with small bones sat at a strange angle on his head. Dirt smudged his cheeks and a unibrow was drawn in messily. A plastic bone club was clutched awkwardly in the hand that held the door. In the other was a cup of beer. The teenager peered good-naturedly at them with that particular look of the happily pissed.

"Great coshtumes, man. Who're you?"

"I'm Celia's brother, Matt." "No WAY! That's awshume, man. Party ON!" He stepped out of the way with a wobble. As Thwei-Tjau'ke passed him, the caveman goggled stupidly up at him. "Holy shit, yer tall!" The Yautja ignored the ooman after an imperious glance downwards.

…..

Halloween hadn't changed in the few years since Matt was in high school. The girls all dressed in revealing clothing/lingerie with animal ears or tails or wings. They less popular ones were easily recognizable by that fact that their costumes were much more original and elaborate. The guys were usually dressed as cavemen, criminals, women, athletes, serial killers and comic book/movie characters. One group of guys wore swimming trunks, white bathing caps and what sheets tied like capes. Matt was puzzled until one turned and the words 'FALLOPIAN SWIM TEAM' were revealed written on the back in black Sharpie. He muffled a snort of laughter. Halloween parties were exactly the same. Matt's roving gaze soon picked out Celia's golden brown hair by the refreshment table. She was surrounded by four familiar girls as well as a motley group of others. As he stepped into the living room, he saw that all the furniture, save for a few chairs and the drinks and food table were gone. Smart. That would prevent them from being broken or soiled. Clearly, Lee was not supposed to be having a party, or at least not such a large and boisterous one.

"Hey sis, how are you?"

"I'm great!" she bubbled. "Nice costume." she said before giggling. Matt smiled. It was nice having little private jokes with her again.

"Same to you. What are you, though?" Lee pirouetted, long, dark green skirt flaring out.

"I'm Lady Macbeth." She brandished a plastic dagger and grimaced fiercely. The four friends that he had met before immediately decided that they should tell him what they were too. The rest of the gaggle of girls started in awe that four of their comrades were on speaking terms with him. Erin was dressed in a heavy black leather boots, a black vinyl skirt, a plum leather bustier, long fishnet gloves and lots and lots of white make up and black eyeliner.

She said, "Can you guess what I am?"

"Erm…" Matt mumbled, noticing she had dyed her hair all black hazarded, "A… Dominatrix?" She laughed, baring small fangs.

"I'm a vampire!"

"I see…" said Matt, tearing his eyes away from her. Who knew that baring that much skin was legal? Carrie was wearing a short, colorful dress, the skirt poofed out almost horizontally with many layers of white crinoline. The short sleeves were puffed and edged with lace, like the shirt and the square, plunging neckline of the dress. Carrie's hair was done up in two Princess-Leia-like buns. She proclaimed with far too much pride that she was a Swedish Wench. Monica wore dark blue short shorts, black leather ankle boots, a dark blue t-shirt, similar to the ones police wore but with a deep V-neck and much tighter and a wide leather belt with black fuzzy handcuffs, a bull-whip, a ball-gag and what looked like a blindfold hanging from it. She clutched a riding crop. Oh, yes, and a cop's hat was perched at a jaunty angle on her dark head. Jessica, the friend that Celia was living with, gazed shyly at Matt from under her eyelashes. She was wearing a soft grey body suit with a V-neck and grey stockings. Black high-heeled boots, fuzzy grey cat-ears and a furry tail completed the costume. She said softly to Matt that she was a cat. Adoration shone out of her face. It seemed that since the unpleasant dinner, Jessica had decided that she quite liked Matt. Matt, who had faced down slavering, shining black hordes of Kainde Amedha with only hand-to-hand weapons and his Yautja companions, saw something deep within the eyes of those four girls and a few others that sent a vague feeling of panic jabbing into his belly. He had what only celebrities and some movie/comic book characters had: Scary Fangirls. These girls were starting to idolize him. He didn't like the thought of more empty-headed females hanging off him and babbling at him.

"Who's the hot giant?" asked the ever-talkative Erin. Matt straightened and regained his composure. He stepped slightly to the side and gestured with his right hand.

"This is my good friend T.J." Thwei-Tjau'ke stiffened and began to growl irritably. Matt kicked him and ignored what must have been a truly venomous glare. The girls giggled and Celia covered her mouth, hiding her own amusement.

"T.J.?" Carrie virtually shrieked, "He doesn't look like a T.J. to me! How'd you get that name, honey?" Matt smoothly intercepted the question.

"You wouldn't be able to pronounce his real name. That's just a short version of it. Oh, and he doesn't speak English." Erin, while she looked Thwei-Tjau'ke up and down, seemed to be rather more interested in Matt, so she didn't say anything. A blessing, but only a small one, since her silence would open up the floor to her much thicker subordinates.

"That's alright. I like the silent types. Why is his costume so much more elaborate than yours?" asked Monica.

"He's never had a Halloween before, so his costume is fancier."

"How come he has that mask on? Why can't he just put it on his belt like you? I want to see what he looks like." complained Monica.

"The masks are a pain in the ass to put on and he's shy."

"Awww! That's sooo cute!" Monica moved to put her arm around Thwei-Tjau'ke's, the one that was holding his supporting spear. Matt blocked her swiftly. He didn't know how the alien warrior would react; Guan-Thwei or Nihkou'te could be left to their own devices, but Thwei-Tjau'ke's lesser age and low experience with oomans outside of killing them made Matt a little leery.

Celia instead explained, "You have a boyfriend already. You shouldn't cheat on him. Besides, _T.J. _doesn't know very much about us. I told you about where Matt has been."

"The lazy bastard hasn't shown up." Matt smirked. "He's always ditching me." Monica pouted. "I'm this close to dumping him." She pinched her thumb and forefinger close together. "Bastard is boring and flirting isn't cheating. If he wasn't doing so well in his sports and was a bad lay, I never would have gone out with him for so long." Matt nearly choked on the punch that he had just ladled for himself, partially because it was spiked and partially from mirth. Monica tapped her crop testily against her leg and frowned, seemingly unconcerned about the details she had revealed about her relationship.

Celia stepped away from her clique with a casual, "Be right back." Matt hurried after, as did the Yautja.

…..

Lee led them into the kitchen, shooing out a necking couple. She leaned against the counter.

"So who is your alien friend really?" Matt glanced around at the door, decided the jabber of the party goers and the jangly pop music was loud enough and spoke.

"His real name is Thwei-Tjau'ke. He's the weapons and electronics expert on the clan ship. Think of him as an uber nerd and weaponsmith combined. He's one of my friends and helped me get started as a warrior." His dark brown eyes held a warning to his sister.

"Pleased to meet you, Thwei-Tjau'ke." She curtsied deeply, an odd mixture of theatricality and politeness. Matt was pleased that she had read his silent warning correctly. "What happened to his leg, if he doesn't mind me asking?" Matt looked at the warrior, who bobbed his masked head.

"He was on a hunt and got trapped under a Kainde Amedha he had impaled with his spear. They are a very nasty alien with acid blood. It burned off his leg and damaged the muscles on the side."

"That's gotta hurt. Poor him." Thwei-Tjau'ke growled something.

"He says not to pity him because Yautja warriors wear the marks of their battles with pride. He also says it was his own stupidity that got him trapped." translated Matt. "Oh, by the way. How did you clear the house?"

"My foster parents decided that I needed to celebrate my eighteenth birthday with my girlfriends all alone. So they went out with some of their friends and got Tomas to stay with his best friend." She smiled evilly. "Hey Matthew, are you some kind of criminal or celebrity that needs guards all the time, because you're almost never without one of them." Lee said with mock seriousness, joking beneath her stern exterior.

"Nah. I needed a ride and poor old T.J. needed to get out a bit. He's been ever so cramped in his little workshop." A low growl sounded behind him.

"Why are you calling me 'Tee-Jay'? I do not like the ooman version. And why was the fat ooman trying to grab me?" he demanded. Matt patted Thwei-Tjau'ke companionably on the shoulder.

"Hate to break it to you, friend, but…" He trailed off dramatically. The crippled Yautja clicked impatiently. "You have an admirer." Matt finished with a grin. The warrior was silent a moment, then collapsed in to trilling laughter.

"Why…" he asked between bouts. "Would an overweight runt… want to… breed with me?"

"She likes tall, muscular ones." Thwei-Tjau'ke nearly lost control.

"She is inferior! I would break her in half!" he cackled.

"Um." said Celia, "What's so funny?"

Matt stifled his own snickers to answer, "Thwei-Tjau'ke wanted to know why Monica wanted to hang off his arm, so I told him that she thinks he's attractive, and he thought that was hilarious because, uh…" Matt coloured slightly and continued, "He imagined them coupling and thought that he would break her in half."

"I hope it's not mutual." Celia said. No doubt she was thinking of the fearsome, insect-like mouth.

"No. Their females are usually around nine feet tall and dominant."

"Ohhh, I see. Bet you almost shit yourself when you saw one of them for the first time."

"Yep." Just then, the front door banged open in the hall.

A loud voice yelled, "LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED, MOFOS! WOO!"

Celia grinned and said, "Landis just got here! C'mon. I wonder if the Jose, George and Damien are with him?" Matt didn't need to hear Celia's confirmation; his light mood fizzled slightly. Celia lugged on his arm. "C'mon!" she exclaimed again.

"Alright, alright. You don't need to tear off my arm." So. The coward had returned. Either he hadn't heard from his beaten friends or he chose to disregard their warnings. He'd regret ever skipping the fight if Matt ever caught him alone.


	9. Chapter 9

_Hope you like this chapter! Not one of you answered my little questions! My not so subtle movie reference is that Carrie had hair like Princess Leia and she was played by Carrie Fisher. You should know that! Or maybe I'm just a Star Wars nerd that knows far more than is healthy. The Fallopian Swim Team members are sperm. People actually dressed like that in my school. Anyway, please review because of my friend the hit counter. I won't keep you waiting so painfully long this time for an update._

_Iconofcoolness: (ego inflates and fills room. cats are squished) Nooooo, kitties! Anyway, Thankies very much!_

_Lord Azrael: Shiny indeed!_

_Golden Wind: I heard about the curse, but I thought that it only applied to the play… Hmmm… I wish I could still trick or treat. I miss it._

_Bastet1023: Poor, poor Thwei-Tjau'ke. I have put him through so much indignity. T.J. has to be one of the cruelest nicknames for a Yautja ever._

_Kitty Felone: But I want a plushie! Oh well, I have my X-13 and One plushies! (cackles) I shall post ten slightly faster than this because most is written. You will all be surprised…_

_Tarei'hasan: Unworthy opponent._

_Thwei-Tjau'ke: Blood Stone._

_Guan-Thwei: Night Blood._

Chapter nine

Matt slouched out of the kitchen and around the corner. Landis stood at the door, embracing Celia. He was also a member of the Fallopian Swim Team. They broke apart and the red-haired boy began tugging Lee back into the living room. Almost immediately, the irritating, jangly pop music cut out and was replaced by a heavy, throbbing beat. Matt sighed, he didn't want to admit it, but Landis had a good taste in music-at least so far.

Thwei-Tjau'ke clicked behind him and said, interest lacing his voice, "M'aat-hew, what is this music? It is very different, very strange."

"This is a type of music called rave. This song is called Zombie Nation."

"I like it." With that, the Yautja elbowed past Matt and into the middle of the dance floor where costumed teenagers were gyrating and twisting to the music. A few shot dirty looks as Thwei-Tjau'ke used his greater size, strength and pointy bits of armor to give himself room. A few just laughed. Thwei-Tjau'ke had stopped in the middle of the floor and was swaying slightly to the bass beat, head tilted upwards slightly. Matt pushed his way in and carefully steered/dragged the Yautja away from the middle earning cold looks and a virulent glare from the crippled warrior.

"Hey, Thwei-Tjau'ke. Don't do that. The oomans think that it is strange." Thwei-Tjau'ke stared past Matt and into the middle of the floor again, looking like he was contemplating going back out. Matt pulled out a chair. Thwei-Tjau'ke looked at it, and then sat slowly with a hiss, the chair creaking slightly. He rubbed his scarred side and stretched the metal leg.

"How did you know?"

"You get irritable and start trying to bite off people's heads when you start hurting. Um, why don't you stay here for a bit? I'm just going to wander around a little." The Yautja nodded impatiently and waved Matt away. He obviously wanted to get back to his music.

…..

Matt wandered around the house, chatting with some of the other guests. Most of them wanted to find out where he got his armor from, but a few genuinely wanted to know where he had been. He had known them in high school and since Celia and he was only a couple of years apart, she knew some of the same people he did. They had wondered where he had been. That was a pleasant surprise, but he wasn't really trying to mingle. Matt really wanted to catch Landis alone, but he always had Celia stuck to his side like glue. Matt growled and went into the amazingly empty kitchen to brood.

Amazingly, a few minutes after he went to hide in the kitchen, he heard: "I'm just gonna get some ice. I'll be back in a minute, hon." and Landis walked in. He stopped abruptly in shock, seeing Matt leaning against the shelves. Matt grinned evilly. "What the hell do you want?" Landis muttered sullenly, slamming his plastic cup down so some of his drink sloshed out.

"Oh, so your friends didn't tell you? Good."

"Tell me what?"

"Nothing." Matt advanced rapidly on Landis, stopping right in front of him. The football player leaned away from Matt, his back pressed into the counter. "Why didn't you show last night, tarei'hasan?" Matt asked coldly.

"I didn't feel like it."

"You made an obligation! You are a coward for not showing!" he hissed.

"Fuck off. Looks like you got your ass kicked even without me being there, _Matt_." Landis snarled, taking in the faint bruises coloring his face and the scabbed splits on his brow. Matt leaned even closer.

"Actually, I won. Your old buddy Jose's knee will probably never be the same." Landis glared under his white swim cap and looked like he wished to bite Matt. Suddenly, he was struck by an idea. Matt could practically see the neurons sputtering into life.

"Where are they? What did you do to them?" Matt was caught off-guard and drew back.

"Nothing that won't heal." The red haired boy stood straighter.

"You are such a fucking liar! What did you do? I swear if you did anything serious, I'll call the fucking cops."

"Landis? What are you doing in here?" Celia called. Matt flinched further away from Landis.

"Oh, hi Matt. What were you doing in here?"

"We were talking." Matt said through clenched teeth.

"Cool." Lee said, leaning close enough to him to hiss in his ear, "Take your friend up to my room if he wants to eat. He looks hungry." before she walked up to Landis.

"Alright, I'll do that. Bye Lee, _bye Landis_." Matt said, shooting a glare at him. He wondered if Celia really knew how much he hated Landis. The Celia that he had known before wouldn't have been able to hide her opinions, but she had changed. She was smarter, more mature, more political in her actions and much, much less naïve. Maybe she did know and was waiting for the right time to tell him what she thought. Maybe she didn't. It would be something to think about later.

…..

"What do you want to try?" Matt asked Thwei-Tjau'ke in Yautian. He held an orange plastic plate and a pair of tongs.

Thwei-Tjau'ke questioned, "What is that?" He gestured towards a large party platter of rolled cold cuts with a small pyramid of orange and white cheese heaped in the middle.

"Those are cheese and cold cuts." replied Matt. "I don't think the chemicals in the meat would be good for you, but the cheese should be safe." He nabbed a few cubes and deposited them safely on the plate. As Thwei-Tjau'ke chose his treats, Matt regulated his choices; the last thing he wanted was a violently ill alien, although Thwei-Tjau'ke might not react the same as Guan-Thwei. "And but not least: Drinks." Matt grabbed a bottle of beer, a wine cooler and a cup. Then they trooped upstairs to where the warrior could safely remove his mask without causing a riot.

Thwei-Tjau'ke sat down on Celia's bed, rubbing his scars and eyeing the food. Matt set it down while the Yautja removed his mask. He selected a pretzel, carefully sniffed it, then gingerly bit off half.

He chewed for a moment before making a face and declaring, "I do not like these; they are unpleasantly salty and coat my mouth." Thwei-Tjau'ke set the uneaten half down on a napkin with a look of such deep disgust that it made Matt grin. Then he picked up a cube of cheddar. Thwei-Tjau'ke seemed to like that one. Then he moved on to sample the rest; chips, cookies, snack mix, veggies and dip and cut up assorted fruit. He didn't like the chips, part of the snack mix or the cookies, so Matt ate the untouched food. It worked out well. He held up the bottles.

"Which would you like?" he asked. Thwei-Tjau'ke looked confused. Of course, both would look virtually the same to him. "Let's try you on the beer." Matt said, twisting off both caps, then offered the beer to the warrior. He made a face after sniffing it. The wine cooler was the same.

"I will have water. I don't like the smell of those drinks."

"Suit yourself." replied Matt, taking a swig from the cooler. "At least you have good choice when it comes to beer." He got up to fill the plastic cup with water from the tap in Lee's bathroom. "There's candy there if you would like some." The Yautja made an interested noise and soon the room was filled with the crackling of wrappers and noisy eating. Matt shook his head and leaned against the window frame, looking out at the diminishing crowd of darting children. He half wanted to get Thwei-Tjau'ke to come to the window just to scare them, but dismissed the idea. "So how do you like your first ooman party?" he asked after a few long minutes. No answer. "Thwei-Tjau'ke?" he asked, turning. Matt stared at the sight before him. The warrior was fighting with a piece of gum and losing. It was caught in his pointy teeth and had ensnared three of his mandibles. Long strings stretched to his claws. Thwei-Tjau'ke shook his hands but only succeeded in getting the gooey pink offender stuck to his chin as well. He looked up at Matt pathetically. "You retard!" Matt laughed, throwing a fistful of napkins at the trapped Yautja.

…..

Downstairs and de-gummed, Matt and Thwei-Tjau'ke once again wandered the large house, mingling and listening to the dance music. It turned out that the Yautja like techno and rave music as well as rock. Despite Landis, Matt was quite enjoying himself again, until someone dressed as Freddy Krueger came pelting downstairs and shoved his way into the mass of dancers and shut off the music. There were the expected shouts of displeasure and virulent name-calling and many other signs of displeasure.

Freddy waved them into what passed for silence and yelled, "It's the fucking cops!"


	10. Chapter 10

_Fast update! Yay for motivation! Hard to believe that this fic is almost finished… I expect that all shall be shocked with this chapter, since that is what I am hoping for._

_Olgite the Squidgal: I didn't even remember that quote! It must be lodged deep within my twisted subconsciousness. DeviantArt is good, but kind of slow. If gum can trap my braces, it can trap a Yautja's mandibles. Stupid braces…_

_Stormseer88: I dunno about a massive shoot-out this time. You'll have to wait for the sequel (evil grin)._

_Kitty Felone: Matt: Quick! Cloak! The cops! (they cloak) People in room: EEEEEEKKK! GHOSTS!_

_Bastet1023: Twisted two-faced whiner bugger… I hates that Landis._

_Lord Azrael: Zombie Nation rocks, but only the original._

_Iconofcoolness: I have become quite good at the cliffhangers, haven't I? I just decided to be different with my beloved Matt and it is very creepy about your son… Small world…Everyone seems to be named that._

_S'yuit-de: Shit, derogatory term._

_Thwei-Tjau'ke: Blood Stone._

_Ki'its-pa: Retractable spear._

_H'sai-de: Curved sword._

_Ki'cti-pa: Wristblades._

_Pauk-de: Fucker or fucking._

_Kainde Amedha Chiva: The Blooding hunt, the Hard Meat Trial._

_Pyode Amedha: Soft Meat._

Chapter ten

A sudden chord of dread struck in his stomach, but was overshadowed by the small sun of rage growing in his chest. That s'yuit-de… He had told, hadn't he! The crowd of people stood quiet and wary as they silently counted each thumping step as the police officers climbed the stairs. The doorbell rang and no one moved for a moment until Freddy moved forwards and opened the door. A tall, dark woman and her equally well-height endowed partner stood framed in the doorway.

The man spoke, "We are going to have to ask you to break up this party immediately and return to your homes." Matt almost slumped with relief. The neighbors were only complaining. "There has been a murder near here recently and all citizens under the age of twenty one are advised to stay in their homes from the hours eleven PM to six AM." No neighbors. But they hadn't said anything about suspects. They teenagers in the room started muttering to each other.

They were about to turn and go when the woman put her hand up to her ear, listening to the small headphone and asked, "Is there a Matt Booker on the premises?" The buzzing in the room stopped and dozens of eyes locked themselves on him.

Matt stiffened and said in a loud, clear voice, "That's me."

"Please come with us." He started walking, avoiding the grab Thwei-Tjau'ke made at his shoulder. He stopped just for the barest moment in the door and glared murder at Landis, looking past Celia's pale, shocked, worried face.

…..

Once outside the police pushed him against the hood of the car and cuffed his hands behind him while they patted him down for weapons. They found his ki'its-pa, his h'sai-de, his long dagger, his two small, flat daggers and his brace of throwing knives; amazingly, they didn't find the myriad of other weapons stashed in his awu'asa.

"You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." the man said as he guided Matt into the car. This can't be happening to me. Matt thought. But it is. Oh, this is almost as bad as my Kainde Amedha Chiva… That bastard told. What is Lee going to think? She's going to be so worried… Landis. He contacted his friends and worked it out of them. He phoned the cops. That fucking asshole. That pauk-de. That goddamn motherfucking son-of-a-bitch told! Matt silently screamed, working himself into a fine rage to dispel the panic. Controlled rage would clear his head and help him think, help him escape. That was what the mesh'in'ga was. Pure controlled bloodlust. _Landis_, ooh, he would pay! The things Matt wanted to do to him would make even the Yautja's most gruesome kill seem like a neat sniper's victim. No. What he _would_ do to that tarei'hasan! But first he had to get out of this squad car.

"Excuse me? Officers?" Matt asked, his anger making his voice tremble slightly, but that was OK. Let them mistake for illness. "I need to stop. I think I had too much to drink. I'm gonna be sick." The woman sighed in exasperation and slowed the car, pulling it onto the shoulder of the road in a mercifully bare stretch of road in front of a few empty treed lots. The man got out and opened the door.

"Make it quick, alright?" Matt pretended to lurch drunkenly out of the car and into the ditch. Then he faked a trip, tumbling head over heels into the shadowy bottom.

"HEY!" hollered the male officer, fumbling at his belt for his flashlight. Matt didn't have much time. He tucked his legs onto his chest and worked his arms back to the front, wincing as the metal of the cuffs cut into his skin. He twisted his hands so the chain lay between where his ki'cti-pa came out and clenched his right fist. The deadly twin blades shot out and with a simple twist, the chain was cut easily. In a flash, Matt unhooked his mask, put it on and cloaked just as the cop's light shone on him. "Hey, hey! That kid's gone!"

"Shit!" swore his partner, getting out of the car and drawing her gun. The man's beam passed over Matt's wavering form.

"What the hell is that?" he yelled as Matt darted to the left.

"Kid! Matt!" called the female cop. "Come out quietly with your hands up. We don't want to hurt you."

"Oh," growled a voice by her ear. "I want to hurt _you_." She whirled, coming face to face with a menacing masked form. Her scream of fear was cut off short by a metallic _snick!_ as Matt shot his ki'cti-pa into her chest. Her face worked as she tried to speak. She started to fall and managed to squeeze off one shot before collapsing totally. It ricocheted off a shoulder plate.

"What… the… hell… are… you?" she choked in between wheezes and coughs as Matt's form faded from sight.

"Lois!" yelled the man, charging up the side of the ditch. "You asshole!" he roared, seeing the woman's fallen form. The cop gasped as the warrior uncloaked and delivered a nearly point blank shot of plasma into his chest.

…..

Matt felt no remorse in killing the two cops. All he felt was anger, coldness and determination. He had retrieved his weapons from the trunk of the car. He jogged quickly along the side of the road towards one of the newer neighborhoods on the outskirts of the city. Matt remained cloaked. Most of the trick or treaters were now home, but the few that remained barely gave Matt's shimmering form a second glance. Eagle Street. Hummingbird Street. Mallard Street. Warbler Street. And finally, Hawk Street. Matt nimbly leapt over the fence of the first house on the block. It was a simple matter to peer into the windows of the first story house. The shadows didn't matter in his search. The infrared setting to his mask solved that problem. He slowly slowly slid the unlocked window open. The screen was missing already. He edged in, not daring to waken the sleeping body. Still in infrared mode, Matt wedged a chair under the doorknob and turned to the room's sleeping occupant. Standing over him, Matt nudged the somnolent body. He snorted and sleepily pushed himself up, clearing his throat.

"Huh? Wuzzat? Who's there?" asked the ooman querulously, squinting blearily into the dark and groping for the light switch. Light flooded the room. "Fuck."

"Hello Landis." Matt snarled in a low voice. "Don't bother screaming or anything. It won't do you any good. You'll just die faster." Matt shot his ki'cti-pa, the long blades halting only inches from Landis's nose.

"P-please, don't hurt me man… I didn't do nothing… You got the wrong guy."

"Oh really? I would have thought you'd recognize me." Matt removed his mask with a hiss. Landis's cheese coloured face flushed bright red.

"I was right! You did do something to them!"

"I only beat them senseless, which is far less than I will do to you and the person who squealed. Who was it, Landis? Jose? Damien? George? Or one of those others? Tell me."

"No fucking way. I'll never tell! You don't have the nerve to do it." Matt punched Landis in the face. His head jerked back, blood spurting from his nose.

"Tell me. Now." Matt pushed the tips of his ki'cti-pa into Landis's throat, pricking him. Sweat stood out like beads on his skin, mingling with the blood from his nose. The sour smell of fear choked the room. Matt stared deep into Landis's green eyes for several minutes.

"I'll… I'll tell you…" murmured Landis, closing his eyes and hunching his shoulders. Matt cocked his head to the side. "It was George."

Matt smirked and said, "That's a good Pyode Amedha. Was that so hard?"

"Please let me the fuck go. I told you what you wanted! I won't tell anyone else! Please, just let me go." babbled the red-haired boy.

"No, I don't think so. You already have no honor, so I cannot trust your word. You told once and you will tell again. The only punishment for you is death. You know too much."

"W-what? You're kidding, right? C'mon man, please don't do this… I could-I could pay you! What do you want? I'll give it to you! Anything! Please don't do it!" pleaded Landis as he backed away from the advancing warrior. "Don't touch me! I'll yell and my parents will come! Then they'll call the cops and you'll go to jail."

"Let them come. I will deal with them like I dealt with the other cops. Bring your parents in here and I will kill them too." Matt jumped onto the bed and seized Landis's throat, dragging him off the bed and onto the floor. He bore down onto Landis, hands clenching around his throat. "How dare you have anything to do with my sister! How dare you touch her! You are not worthy! You are shit compared to her; you and all your bullying friends!" Landis gagged and his eyes rolled up into his head. Matt released him. Air surged back into Landis's lungs with a noisy wheeze. He lay on the floor, coughing and gasping, Matt standing over him like a great dark god judging his minions. "For my kind betraying a fellow hunter to possible death or discovery for no reason other than hatred usually means death. There are no Arbitrators here, so I shall assume their duty." Landis rolled onto his back, legs curled onto his chest like an insect's. "Pitiful ooman." the warrior scoffed. Then the football player drove both his feet into Matt's largely unprotected belly. Matt doubled over as Landis scrambled madly to his feet. He wrenched the chair away from the door and was about to seize the doorknob when Matt grabbed him by the hair and yanked him away.

"Let me go, you crazy fucking bastard!" yelled Landis.

"You fight with surprising trickery, Pyode Amedha. But it will not be enough." snarled Matt as he ran the red haired boy through. He screamed. Sleepy, alarmed voices rang through the house and bare feet pounded the floor, but when they opened the door all they saw was a chaotic mess with a pool of blood in the centre. A trail of blood led out the window and into the night.

…..

Matt grunted, teeth bared in effort as he heaved on a length of rope that stretched over a tree branch. The other end was attached to the skinned headless corpse of Landis. Matt's hands were slick with blood, his armor spattered generously in the fluid of life, but he gave it as little attention as he would water. Matt saw everything through a thin red haze. The next stop was Georges. Matt was still very angry and still deep within the mesh'in'ga. He didn't give the corpse another glance as he put his mask on and cloaked as he left the small forest.

_You are disturbed, no? Please review and tell me what you think of the gory gore! I'll eat flames for breakfast, but they are welcome. I'll laugh though before I douse them in yummy, yummy milk and sprinkle sugar on them._


	11. Chapter 11

_Wow. Lots of reviews. The most ever for a chapter that isn't the last! A happy early Halloween to you all, or Samhain as I like to call it! I'll be off as a fresh zombie corpse to scare the children come Monday! Booya! Thankies for the reviews!_

_Adrian DeRoy: Thank you. I gave some fake limbs because of the dangerous lifestyle they lead. With all the creatures they hunt, a few warriors are bound to lose a few limbs, so they need replacement limbs in order to keep hunting. I mean, the Yautja are an advanced race, so why shouldn't they have invented better medicine? I will do a sequel, eventually._

_Xenomoose: You'll just have to see!_

_Kd Zeal: . I compel you all to review!_

_Lord Azrael: Ooh, Hawaii! Always wanted to go there! The Yautja would approve of that; nice and warm!_

_Chancelor22: I love revenge. I do it all the time, which explains all the loose soil in my-Oops! I've said too much!_

_Golden Wind: Zombie Nation is awesome music. System of a Down too. You're just gonna have to wait and see what happens!_

_Kitty Felone: Eeeewww…LOL! (throws bucket of ice water at Kitty) You can force him to play Evil Monopoly if you want!_

_Ryunosuke-sama: I won't make it turn into one of those. I just take a while to do all my character development and create the proper mood and back-story for the climax. You get to see what Thwei-Tjau'ke is doing now!_

_Bastet1023: Mmm… Candy… Ooh! Candy corn! I should have had him eating that! _

_Stormseer88: I shall save the shoot outs for the sequel, which promises more gore and action._

_Thunder Demon: W00T! I disturbed so many people! And through my writing, not my strange, strange personality._

_Olgite the Squidgal: I enjoy this review! So well written…_

_Iconofcoolness: I feel special now! I be not rushed; everyone can growl at me to write faster and threaten me with gruesome death, but I won't write faster if it means sacrificing quality. Hee._

_Whew!_

Chapter eleven

Celia walked somewhat nervously up to Matt's Yautja friend. He was standing in front of the front picture window, arms crossed over his chest. The light from the street lamps shone faintly over the contours of his mask and armor, glimmering on the rings in his dreadlocks. Hesitantly, Lee tapped him on the arm. He turned his head, gazing down at her.

"Umm, Thwei-Tjau'ke? Do you think that Matt will be OK?" The warrior cocked his head to the side and rumbled.

A slow, mechanical voice issued from his mask. "Who take?"

"Uh, those were police. Lawkeepers. What did Matt do?"

More of the clicking, growling speech before the mask made its awkward translation. "He fight humans. Kill one."

Her eyes widened. "He _what_?" she fairly shrieked. "Who did he fight? Who died?"

"Friends of you. Males. Many."

"How many?" Thwei-Tjau'ke held up both hands, fingers outstretched, and then he folded down two. "Eight? Oh my god… Did they hurt him?" The Yautja just stared at Celia a moment before trilling with laughter. "OK. Silly question. Who did he kill?" Her heart pounded. Please don't let it be anyone I know…

"He not know. Name Ja'ake? Ja'ake try to kill. Use gun. M'aat-hew throw knife. Hit here." He indicated the centre of his chest, tapping it with a claw. "Not mean to. He act, not think. Good warrior." The name Jake didn't ring any bells, which was probably a good thing. Lee bit her lip.

"What are we gonna do? Matt's in all that armor and with the technology, they'll know something is up. Maybe I should go down to the police station and talk to…" She withered before the glare the crippled Yautja gave her.

He growled rapidly, gesticulating sharply and punctuating his alien words with loud clicks. "M'aat-hew not there. We know if he there. No. He gone."

"What the hell are you talking about? Of course Matt's with the police! That's where any normal human being would be!"

"M'aat-hew not human. He Yautja now. Human out, Yautja in. He right wrong done to him our way. They dead."

"Who? The police?"

"Yes. Ones who told, they dead."

Lee drew herself up. "What do you mean, he's not human? Matt wouldn't kill the police for picking him up; he's better than that." Thwei-Tjau'ke shook his head and growled softly.

"He killer. Yautja."

"FUCK!" snapped Lee and she stomped out, shutting the door to the living room behind her.

…..

"What's the matter? You're pissed about something." queried Jessica, as she sat on her bed in her pajamas, painting her toenails blue as Celia came in stomping and fuming.

She growled, "It's that friend of Matt's! He's being difficult."

Jessica raised an eyebrow and drawled, "How can he be difficult? He doesn't speak English." Lee froze a moment, mouth working like a fish out of water.

"Uh, he knows a little and I know a little of his language. We can get by. He's just… Oh never mind!"

"Try me." said Jessica, swinging her feet off the bed and kicking them.

"He thinks Matt is more like him and that he isn't with the police. I know him better. Matt is my brother and a good guy. I know he's pissed off at Landis for some reason, but he wouldn't break any laws or do bad shit like that."

"I dunno. You haven't seen him for like, four years and he's been with another culture the whole time. Maybe he's changed. Like, he isn't the same skinny little nerd that I knew. He got touchy about weird things."

"How would you know?" snapped Lee. "You could barely look at him without blushing! Why are you suddenly spouting advice?"

"Geez, don't bite off my head! I'm quiet, but I see things. I mean, Matt is a hottie and seems nice enough, but he acts weird sometimes. Tomas acted weird the first time I brought home my first boyfriend. He got all protective and was like, that guy's an asshole, he just using you! Shit like that. Turns out he was right, but maybe Matt feels the same way, huh?"

"But Landis is sweet, right? I love him."

Jessica shrugged and scratched her head. "I dunno. Sometimes other guys are good at seeing that kind of stuff." Celia threw herself facedown onto Jessica's bed.

"Fuck. I'm so worried about Matt right now."

Jessica flinched and muttered, "Celia… Someone wants to see you." She poked her.

"Huh? What? Oh. I'll be back." Thwei-Tjau'ke was peering around the door at them in that eerie quiet way that all the Yautja could do. Maybe it was the masks. Celia got up and walked over to the Yautja, who gestured her out.

…..

"What is it?" she asked. He started limping away, muttering to himself. A few steps away, he stumbled, prosthetic leg folding up. He hissed harshly, barely catching himself, claws leaving small dents in the wall. He leaned against the wall, kneading his scarred side. She hoped no one would notice the faint claw marks. "Let me get you something for that. Just follow me downstairs to the main bathroom." Thwei-Tjau'ke grunted on each step, clutching the railing. "Here you go. Just hold it on um, there." The Yautja looked at the heat pad suspiciously. "It's a heat pad. My foster father uses them when his back hurts. It'll make you feel better." He took it and pressed in to his side, sighing and rumbling. He bobbed his head at Lee. "You're welcome! Um, what's up?"

"Jess'ca right. He not same. Lahn-dis bad. Dishonorable"

"Do you guys always listen to everything?"

He clicked nervously. "M'aat-hew transmission." He tapped his wrist computer. "He kill this many humans." He held up four fingers.

"Oh my god…"

"Do for honor. He in dreamtime. Blood lust. He not know you know. I warn. He Yautja now. Our way not your way. He follow our way or die." Celia was pale, her heart pounding. He killed somebody… Oh god… "You fine?" She nodded stiffly.

"Matt's my brother. He's my only family. I think… I think I should be OK. I can take whatever he did." I think…

The door creaked open and Matt called out, "Lee? Thwei-Tjau'ke? Hello?" The Yautja glanced sharply at her.

"Keep Jess'ca away."

_Spiffy cliffhanger, no? Here lies Nny. Do not weep, he probably would have killed you. Sorry. Just felt like putting that. O.o_


	12. Chapter 12

_Long time, no update, eh? I said it for you. This is the last chapter of Return to Earth and sort of a bridging story to the sequel, which I will start I don't know when. Merry Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanzaa, Yule and whatever other religious holiday you are celebrating this month. Next month is Wintereenmas. W00t! Heh. Ctrl+Alt+Del is a good comic. So, I thank all who faithfully followed this story and hope you will like the sequel, when it comes. Kitty, I just made my deadline! XD Enjoy!_

_Thwei-Tjau'ke: Bloodstone._

_Awu'asa: Armor._

_S'yuit-de: Shit, derogatory term._

_C'jit: Damn._

_Guan-Thwei: Night Blood._

_Kainde Amedha: Hard Meat._

Chapter twelve

"M… Matt?" Celia stuttered.

"What?" called Matt, booted feet thudding on the hardwood floor. He stopped, framed in the doorway, a grim specter. His hands had the remains of a great deal of blood drying on them, partially wiped off. Blood splattered its way up both arms and a broad swathe of gore cut diagonally across his broad chest. There was a hardness around his mouth and his brow was knitted slightly. He was tensed, coiled like a panther, alert. A look that made her stomach churn unpleasantly was in his brown eyes, so like her own, but at that moment, vastly different. His gaze continually darted about. Matt's right hand flexed and relaxed; she could see the muscles in his arm doing the same. The hair prickled on her neck. Celia had seen Matt as many things throughout her life; brother, friend, guardian, confidante, provider, annoyance, even stranger. But he had never, ever scared her before.

"M… Matt? W…Wha?" she trailed off, voice failing her. She cleared her throat and tried again. "What happened?"

He blinked. "I disposed of those who had no honor." Matt said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You dis…? Is that what you call it?"

"Yes." He scowled more deeply.

"Matt! You fucking killed people!" Thwei-Tjau'ke hissed and gestured for silence.

"They had no honor. They lost it. I did them a favour. It is better to die than to live without honor." Lee gaped at her brother; she couldn't believe this shit that was coming out of his mouth!

"So what? They didn't have the same beliefs as you! What about the cops? Did they have no honor?"

"They had to die as well. They knew too much about the Yautja." he said, voice empty of emotion.

"What about _me_? I know a hell of a lot more than they did! Do I die next?"

Matt shifted uncomfortably, some of the disturbing look fading from his eyes. "No… Of course not. Don't be silly… You are my sister. Any Yautja would have killed them too. I wasn't exactly being vindictive; just what was necessary." Lee couldn't stand this Matt; completely indifferent to the fact that not only had he committed multiple acts of murder, he was still covered in his victim's blood! Here he was, trying explain it rationally to her!

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" she shrieked as she saw red. She drew her arm back and slapped him across the face.

…..

"Ki'cte!" yelped Thwei-Tjau'ke as Matt staggered back, pop-eyed and clutching his cheek.

From upstairs, Jessica could be heard. "Celia? What're you screaming about? What's happening? Hello?" Thwei-Tjau'ke leaned his bulk against the door. Celia bore down on Matt, who, for a bare moment believed she was going to pick him up, shake him until his teeth rattled and then proceed to throw him across the room.

"MATT! You fucking retard! You killed people! Sunk into your thick head yet?" C'jit! He had! But up until now, it hadn't really mattered. He didn't care. That was what the Mesh'in'ga did; made you indifferent to anything but the task that you had set yourself to do. He saw from Celia's point of view; her brother, covered in blood. They had to die, but he should have been more subtle.

In the sudden silence, broken only by Lee's harsh breathing and the Yautja's nervous clicking, they heard Celia's friend. "Let me in! What the hell's happening? I'm scared!" She thumped the door.

"Celia." Matt hissed. "I'm sorry for what I did. Honor demanded it!" She snorted and crossed her arms. Matt stared down at his hands; the nails were rimmed with drying blood, coursing the lines like gory streams. "If I didn't do it, d'you know what would have happened to me? Huh? Guan-Thwei, you remember Guan-Thwei, the warrior we saved, who scared off that good-for-nothing s'yuit-de of a father, treated our wounds, protected me when I first lived with the Yautja and made me a warrior? He would have hunted me down and killed me."

Lee scowled, "Why the fuck would he do that? He's your friend. Stop being dramatic."

Jessica continued shouting and banging. "I'm gonna call the cops if you don't lemme in!"

He sighed. "Listen. I don't have long. He was betrayed by a friend when he was younger, a friend who lost his honor. He told me he would kill me if I ever lost my honor. D'you want that? I didn't think so."

"Matt. I know you are a warrior now; but you are my brother. Respect my culture too!"

"Lee. I'm a Yautja now. I can't be human and a Yautja too! I'll die if I try."

"M'aat-hew!"

"_What_?"

"Jess'ca has gone back up. She is calling the ooman Arbitrators."

"Oh, gods…" he growled, exasperated.

Lee rubbed her face and sighed. "Who was it?"

"What?" Matt questioned, surprised.

"I want to know who you killed. I'd rather hear it from you now than from those bastards on the news later."

"I shouldn't. The police will question you later and you shouldn't know more than anyone else."

"Cut the bullshit. You don't want to tell me." He swallowed nervously and managed a thin smile.

"You still know me."

"Matt."

He said slowly, "George. And Landis." Celia's lip trembled, but she didn't cry. "I was honor bound and that George was one of the guys that used to beat me up after school." Lee almost smiled. It was hard to imagine Matt getting beaten up. Sirens started up, faintly but growing closer. "Landis was an ass. He was just using you and one of the guys that started whole thing. He was a vengeful coward, a tarei'hasan. A weasel. Understand where I'm coming from, OK?" Lee sniffed. "Guys like him don't last long among the Yautja." Matt suddenly muttered to himself and patted his at his armor, twisting and turning as he searched. Finally, he pulled something out from the back of his belt and handed it to his sister. "Happy Birthday." Celia turned it over in her hands. It was a sheathed dagger. The leather sheath was gray-blue in color, etched with silver designs. She grabbed the polished metal handle and drew the blade. It was made of some shimmery blue-black stuff. The blade was long and curved, tapering away to a fine point. The blunt edge was carved into strange, oblong-headed beasts.

"It's beautiful." she breathed.

"It's made out of the tail barb of a Kainde Amedha. I killed it and Thwei-Tjau'ke did all the work." Matt jabbed his thumb at his friend. At a look from the crippled hunter, he again fumbled at his awu'asa. This time he took out a black rectangle and a piece of folded paper. He handed it to Lee. She saw that it had a small screen and a keyboard. Red glyphs adorned the buttons. "Now we can communicate. The translations are on the paper. The police are almost here. We must go." Celia nodded and threw her arms around Matt. He returned her hug, then replaced his mask and cloaked. Thwei-Tjau'ke did the same and then they were gone, sirens screaming out into the empty darkness.

…..

When Jessica got to Celia, she was standing by the open door, ignoring the spots of drying blood on her clothes, a strange dagger and a black box in her hands and a small, slightly sad smile on her face.


End file.
